


Hic sunt dracones

by Wapwani



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/F, My First Work in This Fandom, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 70,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wapwani/pseuds/Wapwani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Regina had never fallen in love with Daniel, or been married off to Leopold, or any of the other things that followed from that. What if instead she had escaped from home, and her controlling mother, and tried to build a new life for herself in the woods. What if she found a wounded Maleficent, who needed protecting from dragon hunters?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Probably best to point out that I will be playing fast and loose with canon. Basically, if it doesn't fit, it gets cut off.
> 
> Also, this was totally inspired by Oparu, who makes the *best* suggestions for plot bunnies, even when she's not meaning to. And who is the most supportive beta reader ever. :)

The wind was bitingly cold, and Regina was glad for the shelter of the shop’s interior. Other than the temporary reprieve it offered from the weather, there was not much else to recommend the little general store. The supplies it offered were basic at best, just barely worth the half-day of travel it took her to get there and back. By the time she’d get home it would be nearly dark; at least she could be relatively sure that her fire wouldn’t be out this time. She’d learned from her mistakes, and she could now safely bank a fire so that it would keep her little house relatively warm, and wouldn’t take much effort to bring back to a nice red glow over which she could heat up that rabbit stew she had…but she was getting ahead of herself. Before she could return to the safety of her home in the woods, she had to acquire the last of her winter provisions. She hefted the small pack of cured furs that she would trade for food and essential supplies, and waited her turn.

The storekeeper, a large grey-skinned brute of a man with a reddened, pockmarked nose, was serving two other trappers. They had large luxurious furs – from where Regina stood, it looked like bear – so they had a good reason to haggle. She sighed. All she had managed were a few rabbit and some very nice fox. However, no one could fault the quality of her skinning and curing, and she was hoping that the storekeeper had some fine ladies amongst his customers. The pelts she was offering would make warm stoles and gloves to guard against the chill of the coming winter. She knew this to be true, for she had her own pair, tucked into her belt. Her gloves weren’t the dainty pretty things she’d seen on display in the town’s solitary tailor shop. She’d made these herself, using cast-offs and nearly-ruined bits of fur, the results of her early experiments in trapping. She’d sewn them together with bits of twine using a needle made from a large piece of bone. They were rough and misshapen, but they kept her hands warm and dry, and they were her proudest possession.

The men finally reached an agreement and the trappers left, their now-laden coin purses clinking. Regina had no use for coin, so she was hoping that she could come to a quicker conclusion with the storekeeper. She did not want to be riding through the forest in the dark, and she knew the sun would already be starting to dip. She plunked her furs down on the counter, cutting the restraining twine with her knife, and spread the furs for inspection. The storekeeper – she knew from her past excursions that his name was Grimauld, but she had not cared to learn other details about him – flicked through them dismissively.

“Three silver pieces for the lot.”

“I’ve told you before Grimauld – I don’t want silver.”

“What is it to be then, girl?” he sneered. “More potatoes?”

“Yes. And some onions. A bag of rye. And salt.”

“Salt! You’re not asking for much, are you? That’ll cost you at least two more fox pelts.”

“Fine. Keep the salt. I’ll take a half bushel of lemons instead.” She wasn’t worried about the salt. She’d been careful with her meagre rations and had enough to get her through the winter. But she needed the fruit. She’d slice and dry the lemons by the fire. They’d keep well and would make a good addition to stews and plain water.

Grimauld sneered again. He wasn’t very good at bartering for goods, and he certainly wasn’t good at reading Regina. He huffed and agreed to the trade.

As he parcelled up her goods, he tried to make small talk.

“Still don’t want to invite me around for a meal?”

Regina glared at him.

“Must be lonely out by … where was it you said you lived again?”

“I didn’t.”

“You know,” he said with a cunning grimace of a smile, “I can be quite generous – with salt for instance – to people who are _friendly_ to me.” His heavy emphasis on the word made it very clear what kind of friendship he was referring to.

“I’m not the friendly sort.”

“I’d be careful, if I were you,” he said, angry now. “Little slip of a thing like you. All on her own. You may be grateful for my friendship.”

“I’m not alone.” Regina said evenly. “I have this,” she pulled her knife and held it warningly before her, “and my bow is always well strung. Hard to be lonely with companions like that.”

Grimauld looked at her; her face was streaked with soot, her fingernails jagged and broken, and her hands scraped and rough. He could see the corded muscles in her arm as she held her knife firmly. He huffed. “You’re not worth the effort of the boiling it’d take to make you even half-way decent for company.”

Regina’s lip curled into a snarl, but she held her peace. She knew a sign of surrender when she heard it. She gathered up her belongings, including the piece of twine she’d used to hold the furs together. When you had to struggle as hard as she did to make or hunt or barter for everything you owned, then you didn’t lightly throw away three feet of twine. Outside the store, her horse was waiting patiently, whickering gently when Regina approached him. She loaded her goods into the small two-wheeled cart hitched to the horse then stroked Rocinante along his white blaze. He nuzzled her face and neck, and she laughed, reaching into her pocket to find the carrot she had stolen from a crate by the front door on her way into the store, when Grimauld had been distracted by his dealings with the other trappers. Rocinante crunched the treat delicately then stamped his feet; he was as eager to be off home as she was. Regina mounted swiftly, and turned homewards. Despite the gathering grey clouds, and despite the mud and the cold and the biting wind, she felt her heart soar with joy. She had a few prized possessions – her gloves, her bow and arrow, the hunting knife she had bartered from a traveling peddler – but she would never count Rocinante among them. He was not a possession. He was her companion, her one true friend. When she was up on his broad back, nothing in the world could touch her. She was free.

 

The clouds darkened the skies, and Regina had to stop herself from urging Rocinante to a gallop. They were close to the edge of the woods, but her hut was deep in a secluded part of the forest, and they still had a long way to go before they were safely home. The ground here was treacherous however, uneven with sudden patches of deep mud and jutting stone; she didn't want Rocinante to break a leg because she was in a hurry to get under cover before dark. She allowed him a slower pace that allowed both of them to see problems in the path before them. So when Rocinante stopped and reared back, Regina had a stable enough seat that she didn't fall, and the cart they were pulling didn't tip over. Her normally well-behaved and calm horse was prancing, shuddering backwards, as though he were walking across hot coals. She soothed him with touch and voice, and dismounted as soon as he was still. She had seen nothing that could have caused this strange behaviour; the ground was clear, the only obstruction a small stand of knotty old trees with a snarl of bushes at their base. Perhaps Rocinante had seen a snake disappear into that tangle of shrubs. He didn't like snakes. Regina drew her hunting knife and moved carefully towards the bushes. Depending on the size of the snake, it would make a good supplement to her rabbit stew. 

She did not find a snake. What she did find was a woman, huddling back against a twisted trunk, teeth bared, her face obscured by a fall of unkempt yellow hair. She wore a strange dress, made of black shiny cloth layered to look almost like scales. Perhaps the sight of that had made Rocinante think of snakes. The woman was clutching at her left breast, just above where her heart would be, her right hand a tight fist pressing into her flesh. Regina could see the blood welling up from under her fist, coating her hand in viscous red stuff that dripped onto the ground.

"You're hurt."

The woman hissed, "Stay back." Her voice was raw with pain.

"Let me help you." Regina had never been able to pass by a wounded animal. And there was something about this woman that put her in mind of a once-domesticated dog turned wild and feral. "Please."

A harsh laugh, then "Did your mother never teach you to avoid strangers in the woods?"

"My mother always said I was a wilful child. Never learned my lessons." As she spoke Regina inched closer, her guard up. "I have water," she added, noting the dry scabby lips. 

"Who sent you?" A snarl, but a weak one.

"No one. I was just passing by. My horse - Rocinante - he noticed you."

"You named your horse  _what_? What manner of creature are you?"

"I am someone with water. And food. And a shirt that could easily be made into bandages."

After a long pause, the woman bowed her head. "Very well," she acquiesced with bad grace, as though she were doing Regina a favour. She straightened up from her hunched position against the tree, and Regina saw for the first time how very tall and regal the strange woman was. Then she took one stumbling step forward, and crumpled into a heap on the ground. 

Regina rushed towards her, shoving her knife back into her belt so she'd have both hands free to help the woman to her feet. She took the weight of her against her shoulder, and half-carried half-dragged her back to where Rocinante waited, his ears flicking in distress. 

She managed to get her sitting on the back of the cart, propped up against the small sack of potatoes. Regina's water skin was still full so she poured a generous measure out into a cup for the woman to sip while Regina tended to her wound. She eased her red-stained fist away and barely bit back her gasp of horror. The wound was gaping with ragged edges, the blood welling up with every beat of the woman's heart. It ran from just under her collarbone and stopped where her breast started to swell, a gash the span of Regina's two fists.

"Who did this to you?" There was horror in her voice as she tore strips off an old shirt, wadding them up to press against the wound in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. She tied the plug tightly in place with longer strips of material, circling over the woman's shoulder and across her chest. If she didn't move too much, it should hold until Regina could get her back to the hut, where she had more useful tools for - her train of thought was cut off when she caught the woman's gaze on her. She looked amused! As though she considered her precarious situation a fun-filled afternoon jaunt. 

"What are you?" she asked her again.

"My name is Regina. I'm just...a girl. Nothing more."

"Just a girl who finds an injured stranger in the woods and does all this."

"You'd do the same."

The woman laughed. "No, Regina. I doubt I would."

"Who are you? Who did this to you?"

"You should be more concerned with _why_  they did this to me." She straightened and stared all around her, as though searching for something. "The 'who' may make itself known soon enough."

"Someone is chasing you?"

"Hunting, more like."

"I don't und-" she broke off when she noticed the woman's hands. She'd been so focused on the wound in her chest; she hadn't seen the raw marks around her wrists. They were darkened purple with age now and somewhat scabbed over, though some of the scabs seeped a pink-tinged fluid. She glanced down. Despite the mud that splattered calf-high, she could make out similar marks around the woman's ankles. 

Regina glared up into cool eyes and a delicately arched eyebrow. The look was a challenge. "I don't need your pity."

"You've escaped."

"For now." How could she manage to sound so unconcerned, when her body was so battered and abused, and the people who had made it that way may have been around the next turn of the road. 

"I can't offer you much," Regina said haltingly. "I have a shelter, in the woods. It's well hidden. Deep enough that no one ever comes near it - not even the woodcutters. You could...stay there, with me, for a while."

The cool blue eyes widened, and the woman held a hand to her face, an obvious expression of surprise. "You don't know what I've done. And you are-"

"It doesn't matter what you've done. No one... _nothing_  deserves this kind of treatment. When you're stronger, you can go on your way."

Her eyes narrowed. "Mal."

"What?"

"My name. It's Mal. If we're going to be spending such quality time together, you should know how to address me."


	2. Chapter 2

Regina helped Mal climb into the cart, arranging her long body in a comfortable position, wedging her in with the sacks of provisions so she wouldn't jolt too badly as they travelled over the rough ground. She covered her with Rocinante's blanket.

Mal accepted these ministrations with bad grace.

"All I can smell is onions! My god. Is that _all_  you eat?"

"You'll be grateful for those onions soon enough." Regina said shortly. "They help with healing. And they taste good in a stew."

Mal wrinkled her aristocratic nose. "This stench will never leave me. Even the smell of horse isn't as pungent."

Regina sighed and mounted Rocinante again. Part of her was questioning her decision to offer aid, but she could not shake her initial image of Mal as a wounded animal; in pain and terrified, an animal strikes out at whatever helping hand comes near it. Regina knew how to be patient with such a beast; she knew how to be careful too. 

They travelled in silence for a while, drawing nearer to the tree line. Regina felt her eagerness to be home grow even stronger. She was already planning out what to do with her new charge. She still had a little fine silk thread and a few steel needles left. She'd have to be careful not to waste the thread or break a needle when sewing the wound shut. She knew that ashes would help stop the bleeding faster than the rough homespun she'd had to use on the road, but she was worried about an infection having set in. Vinegar perhaps? There was half a jar of that-

Riders ahead. Her thoughts came to a jarring stop. There were never riders on this road. That was why she'd chosen this route.

"Mal?"

"What now?"

"Two men. Ahead." She heard movement behind her. "Don't sit up!"

"Fine," Mal huffed, irritated. "What do they look like?"

"I don't know! I don't have the eyes of an eagle! They're on the rise ahead. They look armed though. They're wearing red and gold."

Mal sighed. "Let me out."

"What? Why?"

"It's me they want. Let me out here, and they will likely leave you alone."

"I'm not doing that! Don't be stupid."

"Stupid is letting yourself be killed for a stranger!"

"Will you be quiet and let me think!"

"Regina-"

"Lay back down. Get under the blanket. Pull those sacks over you. And be _quiet_."

"I can't believe-"

"Are you _capable_  of not speaking?!"

She could feel the weight of the affronted silence, but at least it was silence. Then she heard movement, felt the shifting of the cart as Mal hauled and moved sacks with quiet mutters of "Onions. Why did it have to be onions?" 

Regina tried to slow their speed without looking like she was slowing down. One of the men ahead had stopped, turning back in his saddle to watch her progress. The other was still riding on, but slowly as he studied the semi-distant tree line, obviously searching for something.

When Mal had rearranged the contents of the cart to her satisfaction, she said "Your knife."

"What about it?"

"Pass it back to me."

The thought of giving up her blade shook Regina. She'd feel helpless without her weapon close to hand. Mal seemed to understand her hesitation.

"It will draw attention to you. They will examine you more closely if you are armed. Give it to me instead. I promise you. I won't let them hurt you."

There was something in her voice, a sort of cold certainty, which Regina found herself trusting. As unobtrusively as she could, she drew her knife from her belt and dropped it behind her. Mal drew it under cover with her. The little cart rode on. 

 

As they drew level with the first mounted man, Regina wondered if he was going to let them pass. He hadn't acknowledged their presence in any way other than to stare at her with narrowed eyes as they approached. She was nearly past him when he called out "Halt!"

Despite herself, she was startled and hauled a little to sharply at the reins. Rocinante gave a grumbly little snort, but stopped. Regina tried to calm the racing of her heart. Rocinante was well behaved, but he was so in synch with Regina's emotions; it wouldn't do to have him agitated as well. 

The man was scruffy-looking, unshaven, with light hair but eyes as brown as her own. She had opportunity enough to examine his features as he took his time riding over to her. She felt irritation unfurl in her belly. He thought he was being intimidating. Regina had to remind herself that she was unarmed and with a wounded fugitive in her care. Her usual response would not do in this situation. She lowered her gaze humbly.

"Good afternoon sir," her voice was small and quavered only slightly. Looking up from under her lowered eyelashes she noted the cruel twist of a smile he gave her.

"And where are you headed?"

"Home, sir. Over by Skelder."

"You're from Skelder, are you?"

"No, sir. My father's the miller. We live a ways out of town. I'm bringing home some provisions."

He glanced down into the cart and wrinkled his nose. 

"Onions."

"Yes, sir. My mother makes a good stew with them. Warming for the winter."

"Your father doesn't mind the smell eh?" He leered; he'd obviously spent some time practicing that look. "I can think of other ways to keep warm on a winter's night."

"Yes, sir. We have a big fire too."

He snorted then tapped Rocinante's withers. "This is some fine horseflesh you have here. Wouldn't think a little thing like you would know what to do with so much power between her legs."

Regina's fists clenched, but she managed to keep her voice at the same quavery level, dripping with innocence. "We've had Rock from the time I was little, sir. We all learned to ride on him. Me and all me brothers and sisters."

"Busy man, your father."

"Yes, sir."

"I think you should dismount," he said quietly. "Take a small walk with me."

Before Regina, or the hidden Mal, could respond, they heard the other rider approach.

"Leywin!" he was calling out, "What are you doing?"

"Interrogating a suspicious young woman, Captain!" 

Where Leywin was grimy and unshaven, the Captain gleamed. His dark hair was matted with sweat, but it was still apparent he had taken some pains with it before setting off.

"And what makes her so suspicious?"

Leywin shrugged, a petulant look replacing the lascivious leer. 

The Captain looked Regina over intently. She saw the intelligence in his gaze, and felt far more fearful of him than she did of Leywin. He rode slowly around the cart, shifting a few of the sacks and twitching back the blanket. Somehow, his investigation didn't reveal the wounded Mal. 

He came back to Regina and asked, "Where are you headed?"

She gave him the same reply - home to her family; her father was a miller just outside Skelder; she was bringing back winter provisions.

"The Skelder mill, hmm? I think we've passed it, haven't we Leywin. Has those big red sails?"

"Begging your pardon, sir," Regina said in her small voice. "Mayhap you're thinking of somewhere else. The sails on our mill are yellow."

"Right. Well, I'm not one for paying attention to detail," the Captain lied. "Best be on your way, girl. There's dark creatures about this day, and I wouldn't want you to be caught in their snares."

As Regina rode away in relief, she caught a portion of the two men's conversation.

"What were you thinking?" the Captain asked angrily.

"Just after a bit of fun." Leywin replied sulkily. "It's been weeks since we've been near even a two-cent whorehouse."

"Focus on what's important, man!" his voice raised to a shout "It'll be our heads if we don't bring her back!"

Then she was far enough away that the wind carried off the rest of their words.

 

"You did well." Mal's voice was shaded with grudging admiration. 

"One of them was a fool. It's cost us though. I'll have to take a longer route - go towards Skelder - in case that Captain is watching."

"How did you know? About the sails?"

"I've been through Skelder. Not so long ago. With my father. He hunted in these woods often, and I came with him one year. I remember that windmill. Those yellow sails against a blue sky." Her voice was wistful as she lost herself in memories. 

The cart jolted over a rock in the road, and Mal grunted in pain. 

"I'm sorry. Can you hold on? It'll be three hours at least before we get to shelter."

"I'm fine." Mal snarled. Then she sighed. "I have been more uncomfortable than this. But, I should try to sleep. Sorry, I'm not really up to having a nice little girl chat with you right now."

Regina grinned. She was used to riding alone, with just Rocinante for company, so the lack of conversation didn't bother her. But it was surprisingly pleasant to hear the gentle snuffling noises a sleeping Mal made. She could just imagine how well Mal would receive it when Regina told her she snored. The thought of that conversation kept her chuckling for a good long while.


	3. Chapter 3

The forest was a vast no-mans land, the central point around which the lands of three kingdoms met. Regina didn’t know much about the other kingdoms, but her father had always told her that these wildlands held no interest other than as a place to hunt. No one lived here, and only a handful of people made their living chopping firewood in the more easily accessible areas.

It was dark under the trees when Rocinante pulled up gratefully before the place that Regina called home. The hut was a long structure with an inclined roof covered in thickly growing moss. It backed onto a craggy cliff face, and with its wooden, peat-covered walls and green roof, it blended almost seamlessly into the surroundings. It was a dwelling built to be easy to miss in a casual glance. Smaller structures were ringed around it, snuggled up against the cliff, facing outwards towards the only feasible approach; a defensible position, but a place to make a final stand. 

Mal was still sleeping, for which Regina was grateful; her face even in repose was tight in pain. Regina unhitched Rocinante and made sure he had all the care he needed, brushing him down, checking his hooves, making sure he was warm in his stabling and that he had a decent amount of feed and water. She worked efficiently, her movements practiced and sure even in the poor light. When her horse was secure, she offloaded the cart, taking care to not jar Mal too harshly when she moved the sacks that were propping her in place. Despite her care, Mal's eyes flickered open and she grimaced. 

"We're home." Regina told her. "I'm going to have to move you."

Mal sat up, carefully, and looked around. "Lovely," she drawled.

"It's dry and it's warm," Regina ground out, reminding herself yet again about animals and pain and not to take it too personally. 

When she went to help Mal down out of the cart, she caught her smiling at her again, half way between sardonic and affectionate. "Oh don't feel so bad. I'd've left me behind long ago."

Regina sighed. As far as apologies went, that was actually better than she had expected. "Do you think you can stand?"

Regina braced herself for Mal's weight, remembering how difficult it had been to get her to the cart before, but the rest must have done her some good. She only leaned heavily on Regina's shoulder for few seconds before she straightened. Regina saw the effort it took Mal to draw herself to her full height, her back stiff and unyielding as she took a faltering step forward. She slipped a hand around the woman's waist, more to guide than to hold her up, but Mal leaned into the support of her arm. Regina realised how much showing even that small sign of frailty would have cost the proud woman, and she bit down the instinctive, teasing, comment that had risen to her lips. They entered the hut in silence, but even in her weakened state Mal could not resist the muttered "Charming," under her breath.

Regina decided to take that compliment at face value. "Thank you," she responded with complete sincerity. She was very proud of her little home. Mal gave a small, amused, grunt.

The interior was one long narrow room. There was a large central fireplace, where stones encircled a pile of coals still emitting heat from under a light coating of ash. Low benches ran the length of the two longer walls, and Regina helped Mal to sit on one of them before rekindling the fire. Once it was blazing warmly and filling the room with an orange glow, she carried the rest of the provisions from the cart into the hut, where she sorted and stored them quickly. Mal watched her as she worked, making no comment as Regina brought in armfuls of logs to set by the fire and placed a metal frame over the flames from which she hung a small black cauldron. Two wooden plates and spoons were placed on the bench along the opposite wall, two cups filled with water from a clay pot by the front door followed. From a rod suspended over the fire Regina pulled a handful of circular biscuits, placed two in each plate and then ladled stew over. She handed Mal a plate. "Eat."

Mal tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, but she ate. 

The stew had onion yes, but also carrot and potato, and chunks of rabbit. The warm gravy softened the hard disks of the rye biscuits. The whole thing together looked like a messy slop, but either Mal was starving or Regina was the best cook in the world, because she consumed her portion without a single word of complaint. Regina noted that after wolfing down the first two bites, Mal forced herself to slow down, chewing each mouthful thoroughly before she swallowed. So, she hadn't eaten in a while then, but it wasn't the first time she'd been in this position - with a belly so empty that you wanted to fall upon the first hint of food and devour it. You only did that once before learning the effects of gorging yourself on such an empty stomach. And then, unless you enjoyed throwing up violently, you didn't do it again. You forced yourself to eat slowly, no matter what demands your body was making. Regina slowed her own pace, so that by the time Mal had finished her portion, Regina still had food in hers when she refilled her guest's plate. 

After eating, and after a little colour returned to Mal's face and she seemed to be sitting a little less rigidly, Regina dug out her little sewing kit. The kit had somehow found its way into her belongings, and when she had discovered it she had buried it deep in a sack of her old clothes, swearing that she would never needlepoint again. She was glad to have it now though. The bone needles and twine she used for repairs and glove-making would likely have done Mal as much damage as her existing wound. 

Regina selected and threaded the strongest needle from her kit, looked Mal square in the eye and said, "This will hurt."

Mal's mouth curved into her by-now familiar smile, part acid part amusement. More amusement than acid this time though. "That will be a novelty."

 

Regina's fingers were quick and accurate, and Mal was stoic, but even so sweat was soon dripping down Mal's face and her breath hissed through her teeth. She held herself unflinchingly in place though as Regina pieced and sewed the jagged edges of her wound back together then heaped it with cool ashes before wrapping the whole thing back up in more torn strips of cloth. 

When the worst of it was over, Regina turned her attention to Mal's other wounds, cleaning the binding marks on her wrists and ankles with a weak vinegary solution. As she worked, Mal was taking in more details of her surroundings. The hut was functional. The long benches served as Regina's workspace and seating and eating areas. There was a small hole in the ceiling above the fire that let most of the smoke out. One end of the hut was built around a deep indent into the cliff face, shielded behind a door of thatch. That was where Regina stored all her food supplies, the vegetables placed in wooden boxes and covered with rich dark dirt, several small animal carcasses, cleaned and smoked, hung from hooks in the stone ceiling. There was a rough bed at one end of the hut, close enough to the fire for warmth but not so close you'd be sleeping with a face full of smoke. Mal noted the areas of recent repair in the walls, where new patches of wattle had been woven into old holes and covered over with a thin coating of mud. 

"How long have you lived here?"

There was a pause before Regina replied. "Three seasons now."

"This place wasn't built in three seasons. Not by one person." Mal said, the question in her voice even though she didn't ask it.

"It's a long story. And you need a wash."

Mal's grin had teeth in it. "Yes. Hygiene hasn't exactly been a priority for me just lately."

Regina had put a pot of water by the fire to warm. She had also placed out a piece of rag and some fleshy green leaves. She crushed and pounded the leaves against the stones of the fire pit, extracting the soapy sap. As Regina worked, Mal unfastened her dress and stood, letting the shiny black fabric pool at her feet. Regina turned back from the fire and gasped in horror. When Mal had been clothed, the only visible damage had been at her wrists and ankles and the bleeding from the wound in her chest. Her face and the other exposed parts of her arms and legs had been unmarked. The black dress she had worn like armour had hidden the true extent of her injuries. Purple bruises mottled her skin, her flesh was torn. There were bleeding, seeping lashes across her belly and down her back. Regina tore her gaze away from Mal's tortured body and up to those cool eyes; Mal's responding look was unwavering. "I told you. I don't need your pity."

Regina's throat worked wordlessly then in a voice coarsened by emotion, she said "How about my anger?"

Mal smiled. "I've always found anger to be a very useful emotion."

Regina approached her carefully, the dampened rag shaking slightly in her hand. She reached out hesitantly then drew back. "I don't know...I...this will hurt," she said hesitantly, this time it wasn't a warning. It was an apology.

Mal shrugged. The small movement was so indifferent, so accepting of whatever pain she was about to undergo, that tears sprang to Regina's eyes. Mal glared at her, drying the tears before they fell. But when Regina was so careful, her touch so gentle against Mal's skin, the taller woman's eyes fluttered shut. It was only then, when the tension in the bruised and broken body eased, that Regina realised how very tightly Mal had been holding herself. She washed away the blood and the mud, working quicker when she saw Mal start to shiver. The room was warm, so this must be a delayed reaction of shock, or exhaustion catching up with her.

"Talk to me," Mal ground out, her eyes still closed. "Tell me how you came to be in this place."

Regina spoke, and her voice gave the injured woman something to focus on, an anchor to which she clung.

"As I said. It's a long story. My mother wanted me to marry. I didn't share in her desire. So I left. I told you I hunted for a summer in these woods with my father. This was his camp. I remembered it. I came back here. And now it's home."

"My goodness. That _was_ a saga," Mal said drily.

"I may have glossed over some of the details," Regina's smile was small, but decidedly impudent.

"Indeed. Your mother's desire for your marriage cannot have been so great, if she's let you alone all this time."

It was Regina's turn to shrug indifferently. "She wouldn't know about this place. She doesn't care what Father does with his time. And Father wouldn't tell her. He probably doesn't even remember I was here with him that summer."

"Well. I suppose that's worked out in your favour then. Better to be forgotten than at the sharp end of your enemies' attention."

"Will you tell me now, who did this to you?"

"An enemy."

Regina frowned. "I have told you, you can stay until you are healed. It doesn't matter what-"

"I am tired Regina. And I would prefer to not dwell on betrayal and torture before sleeping. That usually results in unfortunate dreams."

"Oh. Okay." Her voice was small and tinged with confusion.

"I will tell you." Mal said quietly. "When I am stronger. Can you be patient?"

Regina nodded. It wasn't like she had much choice. Now that she had seen how badly hurt Mal was, no power in the world could convince her to turn the woman out into the cold before she was strong enough to face her enemies.

As a now-clean Mal stood swaying gently on her feet, Regina helped her dress in some of the clothes she had found abandoned in one of the smaller huts, where her father's men had slept. These were huntsmen's clothes, so were rougher than the fine material of Mal's dress, but they were well made, comfortable, and warm. A padded vest protected her wounded chest and bruised, lacerated torso; over that a long sleeved tunic with frayed leather lacings; brown trousers that could be stuffed into a pair of soft leather boots, scuffed but still sound and sturdy. Regina stood back and admired her handiwork. The woman was virtually unrecognisable as the haughty creature she had picked up by the roadside.

"Time for bed," Regina said.

Mal looked around. "There's only one bed."

"Yes. Yours."

Again that sense of an animal, an animal with hackles raised. "Don't be absurd. I am not going to take your-"

"We can argue about this when you aren't so tired you're asleep on your feet." Regina cut her off.

She led Mal to the single bed, helped her lay down, and covered her over with the blanket. Mal's quizzical gaze was fixed on her the entire time. "I've asked this before, but you've yet to answer to my satisfaction. What manner of creature are you?"

Regina laid a soothing hand on her forehead. Mal must have been at the end of her energy, because she didn't move to push it away. "Sleep now. Neither one of us wants unfortunate dreams."

Mal closed her eyes and slept, dreamless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Regina and Mal get closer, do some magic, and re-stock the larder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I've never been hunting in my life, so this is probably all very wrong!

Over the next few days the two women negotiated their way into a delicate understanding. Regina didn't make a big deal of how damaged and weak Mal was, and Mal pretended she didn't notice how much care Regina was taking of her. If she had acknowledged it, she would have had to question it; to ask what motivated Regina to be so gentle and careful with someone so completely in her power. She didn't want to know the answer to that question, because she realised the knowledge would come too late to do her any good now; it would only make what had happened more painful.

But Regina was an enigma that sat her in mind like a small stone caught in her shoe. With effort she could ignore it, but when her guard was lowered the irritation of not understanding worried at her. It made her far crankier than usual. 

It didn't help that Mal didn't have much else to do as her body healed but watch her new companion. Regina didn't say very much unless prompted. After three seasons alone she was unused to company or conversation, and she went through her day mostly silent. Occasionally she'd hum under her breath or ask Mal if she needed anything, but their exchanges went no further than requests for water or assistance to walk to the outhouse. When she checked on Mal's dressing and wounds, her touch was efficient with no wasted movements except when she'd distractedly brush the hair from Mal's forehead or rub soothingly along her back. When Mal found herself craving those brief touches she knew that for her own sanity she would have to rekindle Regina's ability to communicate. 

"When you fled your mother, did you not think to bring any books with you?"

It was evening, and they were sitting on opposite benches on either side of the glowing fire. Regina was sharpening an axe with a dark grey whetstone and the repetitive  _shnick-_ ing noise was getting on Mal's nerves. It didn't take much to irritate her under the best of circumstances, and this was definitely  _not_  the best of circumstances. She was bored and the stitches in her chest itched but if she dared try to scratch them, Regina would glower at her and tell her to stop being such a child. 

"Why? What good would books do me?"

"Something  _to_  do," Mal replied shortly. "Something other than sitting around in the dark playing with your weapons."

Regina glanced down at the axe. "This isn't a weapon. It's a tool." She gestured at the pile of logs she kept regularly restocked by the fire. The hours she'd spent chopping firewood were paying off now. They would be warm through the winter. 

"So you brought only tools with you?"

"Some I found here," Regina responded. "Father planned to return someday, so I knew they'd left some supplies."

"How very organised of you." She was spoiling for a fight, but Regina seemed incapable of rising to the bait she was throwing out. 

The infuriating girl shrugged and went back to sharpening her damned axe. Mal growled.

Regina glared up at her, and for a moment Mal saw a flash of fire in her eyes that gave her hope, but then Regina lowered her lashes, took a deep breath, and returned to her task.

When Mal threw the cup, she wasn't aiming to hit Regina and so it missed intentionally, but the girl couldn't have known that. She leapt up in fury. "What is wrong with you?!"

Mal smile was broad. Finally. 

"I'm bored."

"How is throwing crockery going to help with that?!"

"It's got you talking in more than a whisper, hasn't it?"

Regina groaned. "You are  _infuriating!_  I am trying to-" she broke off, and tried again. "You need to heal. You said so yourself! You want to get stronger! And you asked me to be patient!"

"Oh." It was never a good feeling to have the wind knocked out of your sails. It left you floundering in waters that were suddenly unfamiliar. "I didn't realise that...I didn't mean...You don't have to..." Mal heard herself stumbling over her words; the only logical response to this was anger. "Patience doesn't have to mean silence! I'm stuck in this godsforsaken hut all day while you get to go outside and do things! I need  _something_  Regina! I am not accustomed to..to..stagnation!"

"Oh." Understanding dawned over Regina's face, and Mal saw the shame that followed.

"Don't," she ground out. "It's not your fault."

"I didn't realise." Regina's voice was small. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things worse for you."

_Fates damn this girl for making me feel guilty about hurting her._

"You haven't. It's...just...could you  _talk_  to me?"

_And the fates be damned for reducing me to begging for her attention._

Regina considered her thoughtfully. "You are stronger. I've noticed you're able to sit up for longer without tiring. You could come outside with me tomorrow. I'm working in the smokehouse, but you could peel the vegetables for supper? And there's always something that needs repairing."

"I hope I can contain my excitement." It was horrible, but the thought of spending even a few hours outdoors made her feel so much better. 

Regina nodded. "Good. Now," she sat back down but didn't pick up her axe again. "What would you like to talk about?"

 

Now that she had opened the floodgates, Mal found it difficult to keep Regina silent. It shouldn't have surprised her really, but the girl was an ocean of questions. She was curious about everything, and once she discovered that Mal knew a lot of answers, there was no stopping her. Her eyes would light up in the most ridiculous fashion every time Mal revealed another nugget of knowledge, and Mal found herself dredging her long memory for stories that would bring that look to Regina's face. 

One cold grey morning, when the sleet made being outdoors more uncomfortable than the other option, they huddled around the fire as Mal told her about an infamous magician who had tried to trap a fire sprite in glass so that his home would have permanent light and warmth. "He was a fool. Fire sprites are living beings, cunning, and above all, ruthless. As the magician slept, the sprite grew brighter and hotter until she exploded out of the glass. Expending that much energy killed her, but she burned the magician's house to the ground, and him with it."

"That was...unfortunate. But not undeserved." 

"Hmm. Especially as he could so easily have avoided being burned to a crisp, if he had thought a little harder. Some people are only interested in the quick way to power. They're not willing to sacrifice a little more to get what they want."

"What else could he have done? Asked the sprite nicely to entomb herself in glass?"

Mal laughed. "No. But you can get fire to do almost anything you want. If you're willing to risk trying."

"What do you mean? Fire is just ... fire. It needs fuel and air to burn."

Mal grinned. Surprising Regina had become one of her favourite pastimes.

She concentrated for a moment, weighing how much energy was safe to use, then held out her hand palm upwards. There was a brief flash and a swirl of dark grey smoke that cleared to reveal a large chunk of glass, which glowed strongly. The glow was caused by a flickering flame that danced within the glass. Regina gasped and reached out a hand, but then stopped when she felt the heat radiating from the surface. 

"How are you doing that?"

"Magic."

Regina rolled her eyes at her. "Yes.  _Obviously_. But  _how?"_

Mal shrugged. "It's just something I do."

Then followed the inevitable question where Regina was concerned. "Can you teach me?"

"How did I know you'd ask that."

"Please?"

"Does the idea of magic not frighten you?"

Regina shook her head. "The idea of magic used by my mother frightens me. You know that. But...I never thought I'd be able to use it myself. For me. Not against me."

"Magic should be a tool Regina. Like your axe or your knife. Used wisely, and cared for properly, it will stand you in good stead."

"So, you  _will_  teach me then?" Her eyes were bright and eager.

Mal thought about the stories Regina had shared. About a domineering mother, who had come by her power the lazy way, who had learned only to use magic to hurt and control. She remembered the look in Regina's eyes when she'd told her what it had felt like to be caught in a magical snare, held up over the ground, terrified she would fall, unable to move her arms, barely able to breathe. Mal knew the horror of being trapped, the gnawing helplessness of being powerless to prevent your impending death.

"I'll teach you what I can."

 

Dinner was rabbit stew. Again. 

Mal knew she shouldn't complain - that it was a healthy meal and far better than anything she'd grown accustomed to before Regina took her in - but still. It was rabbit stew. Again.

She huffed a sigh, and hid that small sign of complaint behind blowing on her spoonful to cool it. Days of regular meals and rest and engaging conversation had worked their own kind of magic. She felt alert and aware tonight.

That meant that it was only tonight that she noticed Regina's serving of food, and recognised that she'd been looking at a similar thing at every meal.

"Is that all you're eating?"

A guilty look flashed across Regina's face before she could control it. That was all Mal needed to know.

"Have you been starving yourself?"

"No! I am not starving. I'm fine. I'm eating what I need."

"I can hear your stomach growl from here! If I hadn't been so...tired - it would have kept me up nights!" Mal was furious - with Regina for doing what she was doing, and with herself for missing the signs.

"I'm fine. You need the extra rations more than I do!"

"You will  _not_  starve yourself to help me!"

"I am  _not_  starving! Look, when I put down provisions for winter, I did allow for emergencies, but I wasn't expecting-" she broke off, but Mal finished for her.

"You weren't expecting to feed a second ravenous stomach for so long."

"It's fine."

"That's why you're out hunting so late every day."

"We need the meat. And I will have one last chance to get the pelts to town before the snow gets too heavy to travel. We need more...of everything. I just need to be sure we have enough. For the winter." She'd known that Mal wouldn't be able to travel during the winter months. Even if she'd healed sufficiently, the terrain was too treacherous to let her leave on her own. 

"You need to eat properly Regina." Mal said with finality. "What good will you do me if you collapse from hunger on one of your hunts? Leaving me alone and helpless here?" She was so angry that she was not above making herself weak and pathetic. 

"I keep telling you, I-"

"Tomorrow, I go hunting with you."

"But, you can barely walk across the clearing without stumbling! How are you going to-"

"We'll take the horse."

"I thought you didn't like Rocinante."

"I have no opinion either way about him.  _He_  on the other hand obviously dislikes  _me._ You're going to have to have a word with him about that."

"He doesn't dislike you! You just make him nervous for some reason."

"Sometimes I think that horse is the wisest one here."

 

The next morning Regina bundled Mal up in all the extra clothing that her body could handle while still leaving her some freedom of movement. She soothed a skittish Rocinante while Mal hauled herself, grunting with the effort, up into the saddle. Regina was concerned about the wound in her chest, but the stitches held and there was no sign of fresh blood soaking into the ashes or bandages. Once Mal was on his back, Rocinante seemed to accept the inevitability of it. And though his eyes rolled a little, and he nudged Regina forcefully in the back as if in protest, he followed meekly when she led him out into the forest. 

Regina's bow and quiver of arrows were slung across her shoulder, and she had her knife and axe in her belt. All the other provisions for the hunt she'd packed into the saddlebags that hung behind Mal. There was enough in there to see them through a night in forest if they needed it, although Regina was prepared to turn back at the first sign of a relapse in Mal's condition. The tall woman sat easily on Rocinate's back however, as though she'd been born to riding. Or had very good teachers. Much like Regina herself then. Regina wondered what else they might have in common. Their night-time conversations had ranged over many topics, but had contained very little personal information about Mal's past.

Regina knew that she had loved someone, and that person had either not returned her love, or had withdrawn their affection and given it to another. She knew that Mal had been held prisoner by someone who was very angry with her, but she didn't know who or why. She knew that she had been terribly hurt, and that she had built walls around herself as a result. They had so many things in common that Regina didn't mind not knowing more details than that. She felt she understood Mal almost as well as she understood herself. So, only a partial understanding then, but enough for them to build a wary friendship on.

 

They trekked deeper into the forest, wending their way towards the place Regina thought of as her hunting grounds; there were gentle swells in the snow-covered ground, the trees grew well but not too thickly, and a small stream still flowed, its edges only just touched with ice. In warmer seasons this was a beautiful spot, where elk grazed under the trees and rabbits gambolled on the grass. Her father's hunt often took their break here, and Regina had learned how to catch fish with her bare hands and practiced her marksmanship as the men threw fruit high into the air. 

That was the last happy summer she remembered. They had returned home to her mother's fury. Regina hadn't expected her mother to be home before her father, but they had lingered here in the woods. And when they did get back, Cora had been waiting for three days, feeding her anger until she had been white hot with it. She had raged, first at Regina's hapless father who had only shrugged and apologised and swore it would never happen again, and of course he didn't blame Cora for not giving him a son, and that was not at all the reason he was thwarting her by letting Regina get away with being so manly in her interests. He swore that Regina would learn to be a proper lady, a proper princess, just like her own mother was. Regina remembered hearing those words coming from the man she believed understood her best in the world. She still felt the sting of it now. 

With her husband cowed, Cora had turned her attention to her daughter. Regina had proven less tractable than her father. Cora was furious that the one trait Regina seemed to have inherited from her was this stubborn streak, the refusal to be beaten. Not that she hadn't tried. Beating her that is. But that hadn't worked. Eventually her mother had resorted to imprisonment and the threat of magic. By the end of that experience, Regina had been suitably terrified and humbled. She had acquiesced to whatever demands her mother made of her. She dressed in silk skirts and bodices cut to show off her assets; she had worn her hair in styles that accentuated the length of her neck and the guilelessness of her eyes; she had learned to sing; she had taken up needlepoint and painting and the harp; she had been paraded before men, grey and wrinkled or young and handsome, who looked at her with the same stomach-turning lust; she had plotted. Her mother had sent her to visit a princess in a neighbouring realm, with the idea that perhaps Regina would catch the eye of her older brother. It had been difficult to pack properly, but Regina had managed to sneak all sorts of useful things into the bottom of her saddlebags. Mother had only looked into her trunks, making sure she had taken the right clothes and shoes and jewellery. When they had stopped to spend the night at a roadside inn, Regina had paid a visiting pageboy for half his wardrobe, had climbed out of a window, clambered across two rooftops, saddled Rocinante in the dark, and ridden for the freedom of the woods. By the time her entourage realised she was missing, she was beyond their reach.

She hadn't really planned anything more than reaching the safety of her father's hunting camp, and once she had arrived there all her time and effort had gone into survival. Her father's men had taught her many practical skills necessary for life in the wild, but there were also many things that she had only observed them do, and it took her several months before she was able to get to a stage where her life had routine and stability. And then winter was nearly upon her, and she knew she had to prepare even better for that, or she risked dying alone and frozen, and who would care for Rocinante if that happened? Then Mal had come bursting into her life, with her pain and the shadow of those who hunted her at her back, and Regina found a new purpose. And now they were here, in this place that had so many special memories for her, and Mal was dismounting and looking around her with mild disgust.

"There are rabbits...everywhere."

Regina looked confused. There were no rabbits in sight. "Their warrens run all through here. They have taken to hiding underground more and more though. Harder to find them above ground now."

"I know. I can smell them." Mal curled her lip. She could see her future. All it contained was rabbit stew.

"Oh, fine. Let's get this over with. Take your net and go wait over there." She pointed to the mid-distance, where she could sense the burrow openings under the snow. "They'll be coming at you fast. Be ready."

Regina was still confused, but the look in Mal's eye brooked no argument. As she started to move however, Mal grabbed her arm. 

"Wait. Do you smell that?"

Regina looked around, trying to catch whatever scent Mal had. The air was crisp and cold, but all she could smell was pine and the muddy banks of the river. She shook her head.

"Elk." Mal whispered. "A cow." She pointed towards the treeline. "We're downwind. That's good.

"It's late for an elk to be here, with snow already on the ground." Regina said, scanning the trees. She thought she could just make out a dark brown figure. Not nearly as big as the bulls her father had regularly brought down, but big enough. 

Mal pointed, "Go that way. When she breaks, she'll break hard. She'll be more concerned with getting away, less likely to notice you. But you won't have much time.” She tapped Regina's bow, “Are you good with that?"

"Good enough."

Mal nodded. "Go, get in position."

Regina went, moving the way she had been taught, silently and careful to stay with the wind in her face. She found a good stand of trees and waited. She could see Mal. She had mounted again, and was urging Rocinante up into the trees behind the elk. She was putting herself upwind, so she was going to beat the elk forwards towards where Regina waited. Regina had seen her father use his men in a similar fashion. She drew her bow and stood ready.

A sudden dread filled her, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, and she heard Rocinante whicker in terror. The elk made a high-pitched noise of distress and bolted, crashing through the trees as though possessed. Regina almost missed her first shot, but the arrow wedged low in the elk's throat. The cow continued to run though, and Regina turned with her, notching and drawing and letting her arrow fly in one smooth movement. This time the arrow buried itself in the elk's eye; an impossible shot. Regina knew it was more luck than skill, but she still whooped in delight as she ran forward to where the animal had fallen. She heard Rocinante's approach; he was silent now and running smoothly so whatever had spooked him must be gone.

Mal dismounted carefully and came to stand by Regina. She was staring down at the elk as it took its final laboured breaths, shivering as it fought for every gulp of air.

"Are you crying?" Mal asked, incredulous.

"I've never killed a deer." Regina gulped. She realised how stupid this was. She'd killed countless rabbits and foxes and birds. But nothing this big. "It's beautiful. And I don't know why I'm crying," she finished on a wail.

Mal sighed. "Give me your knife. I'll finish it."

The fact that Mal wasn't berating her or making fun of her tears brought Regina back in control. "No. It's fine. I'm okay now. Sorry. I don't know what came over me."

The elk had, thankfully, finished dying by now. As though to make up for her brief show of emotion, Regina was especially stoic as she dressed the carcass. She'd seen this process often enough that she knew what to do, knew to be careful to not pierce the guts, knew which parts to keep and which parts to discard. She ignored the blood that covered her hands and splashed on to her boots as she dragged the cooling body to hang off a tree branch so the fluids could drain into the now-red snow. She worked silently to lash branches together into a makeshift pallet to be tied to the saddle so Rocinante could drag the carcass back to camp.

Mal let her work, not saying anything, but keeping a watchful eye. When all Regina's preparations were complete, Mal said quietly, "Forgive me."

Confused, Regina asked "For what?"

"For putting you in a position where you have to do - all this."

Regina shook her head. "It was this or starve. I made my choice long ago Mal. You didn't make me do anything I wasn't already prepared to do."

Mal looked down at her hands, unable to meet Regina's eyes when she said, "I forget sometimes that killing doesn't come easily to everyone."

Regina shrugged. "I've learned that sometimes it's necessary."

Mal smiled bitterly. "I won't put you in this position again, Regina. Not if there is any strength in me to prevent it." She didn't use the word 'vow', but the weight of commitment hung heavy in the air between them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal tries to teach Regina about magic.

They made it back to their camp with enough daylight left for Regina to hang the deer in preparation for skinning it. She was looking forward to taking the pelt into town; she had never had anything so large to trade before. She hummed under her breath as she worked, her mind taking a catalogue of all the provisions in their stores, determining how much extra of each item they needed and how far she could push Grimauld before he decided she was asking for too much.

Rocinante had grown uncharacteristically docile under Mal's touch and allowed her to take charge of grooming and feeding him. With Mal's help, Regina got through the chores much faster than usual, so there was time for Mal to settle on a tree stump in the clearing while Regina made up cups of hot lemon water with a few tea leaves floating in them. It was too cold to take their evening meal outdoors but it was pleasant to pause for a few minutes in the dying light with the stars just starting to make themselves known in the darkening skies. Their silence was companionable and didn't need conversation to fill it, but after a while Mal spoke.

"Not everyone can use magic."

"Oh. So I may not be able to learn it?" There was disappointment in her voice.

Mal smile was wry. "From what I've seen of you, I fear that there is very little you can't succeed at. If you put your mind to it."

Regina's answering smile was so broad, it made Mal sigh. 

"We'll start small. Magic - or at least, the potential for magic - is all around you. Like the air you breathe. However, some people are better suited to sensing it, to moulding it."

"And how do you know, if you are one of them?"

Mal shrugged, "I was born to it. For you - we will do a little experiment. Think of fire."

Regina looked confused, but tried. "You mean...like the one in the firepit?" Mal simply looked at her without speaking. Regina felt very much like she was being tested. She thought about fire, about what Mal had said, that you could get fire to do whatever you wanted as long as you were willing to risk trying. Mal had captured fire and held it in glass, keeping it burning against all logic. "Fire is...more than something burning. The heat of it. The smell. The sound. Fire is...is...the idea of fire...the _essence_ of it?" She watched Mal's face to see if she was at least rambling in the right direction. She was rewarded with a slow spreading smile across her companion's face.

"Now. I want you to think of that essence. I want you to hold the idea of fire in your mind."

Regina closed her eyes and thought. She remembered what the hot edge of flame felt like against her skin, but she also remembered the heat that radiated off Rocinante when they'd been running for hours, the comforting warmth of the sun on her face on a summer morning, the flush that spread through her chest when Mal smiled at her. Regina's eyes flew open. She felt overheated, her skin raw, and the tips of her fingers tingled.

"Good." Mal breathed. "Now, hold that feeling. Let it fill you."

Regina nodded, and tried to do what Mal asked of her. She let the warmth suffuse her body until she was afraid she'd melt into her clothes.

Finally, after an age, Mal nodded. "That will do." She took Regina's hands between her own, and Regina felt an opening she could pour all the pent-up heat into. As the warmth left her body it was replaced with a languorous feeling of ease, leaving her eyelids heavy and her lips slightly parted. Mal drew her hands back and cleared her throat. "Yes. That was...very good. Well done."

"So," Regina's voice was lower and huskier than usual, and she paused, swallowed hard and tried again "Umm..so, that means that I could learn? Magic?"

"Yes. Yes. I think there's a chance you'd be quite good at it." There was concern in Mal's voice, but Regina couldn't think why she'd be worried.

"You should practice." Mal continued. "You can always vent the heat into a log, or something."

"Okay."

"Not too much though!" Mal warned. "And call me if you feel yourself being overwhelmed. Balance is important. Too much power too soon - before you know how to maintain the balance - that can be dangerous."

 

It was two days before Regina had finished making all the preparations for her final trip of the season to town. The morning after the hunt, she had skinned the deer and prepared the pelt, using some of their precious collection of salt to cure it. It made a satisfying addition to her collection of rabbit and fox furs. Once she'd butchered the carcass, she hung most of the cuts up in the smoke house, and packed the rest in a deep pile of snow she'd collected in a big box set high against the outside wall. It was tiring work, but gratifying as she built up their stores to a level where, even if the snows lingered longer than usual, she knew they'd have enough food. She barely found time to work at her magic lessons, but every so often Mal would ask, in her dry voice, "Have you been practicing?" and she was worried that if she'd ever replied "No" the lessons would stop. 

Not that she saw much point in what Mal _was_ teaching her. She had got to the point where she could fill her body with warmth at a moment's notice, and let the intensity of it ebb and flow with will. She no longer needed to discharge the energy she built up into an unsuspecting piece of wood either. The first time she'd done that, the log had smouldered, putting off so much acrid smoke she'd dropped it in the snow unable to prevent a scream of fright. Mal had come rushing out of the hut in a stumbling run, fear in her eyes. When she'd seen what Regina had done her response had been to delicately arch one eyebrow and say in droll tones "Don't wait so long next time. Or find a bigger log." But then she started to show her how to draw in the energy, to absorb it back into herself almost, and soon she'd stopped needing to find logs. Regina found it fascinating that she could tap into an unseen energy that let her do this, but it was a parlour trick compared to what she knew her mother was capable of.

That night as she checked Mal's wounds she decided that the chest-wound had healed well enough, and it was time to remove the stitches.

"We don't want your skin growing all over them," she told her reluctant patient. "This may itch a bit."

Mal rolled her eyes, but let Regina work, using the tiny set of scissors that were part of the sewing kit. It did itch though, and after the third or fourth muttered curse, Regina said, "It would be easier with magic, right? You could show me-"

"Impatient, are we?" Mal interrupted. "Eager to get to the good stuff?"

"I am grateful Mal, that you are teaching me, but there is so much that can be done with magic. And you are showing me how to...not freeze to death in a snowstorm!"

"And that is a useful skill to have, no?"

"Yes. Of course. But I'd rather be able to fight off someone like my mother."

"Regina," Mal said her voice serious but with no accusatory edge to it, "what your mother did to you was terrible. And wrong. And I do not blame you for wanting to strike back, in whatever way you can. But you can't use magic that way. Not without paying a price."

"Maybe I'm willing to pay whatever price." Regina replied angrily.

"It's easy to say that when you don't know what the price is," Mal said. "And the price of teaching you - that's not one _I'm_ willing to pay."

Anger flared brighter in Regina's eyes. "Really? After everything-"

Mal stopped her speaking by standing up and walking towards the door. With her back still to Regina she said gently, "You are a rare creature Regina. After everything you've been through, you can still find gentleness and kindness within you. Do you understand how unusual that is? And you will forgive me if I do not want to lose that."

She stayed standing at the door, not turning around. Understanding dawned over Regina; she knew Mal well enough by now to know that this was no idle threat. She would walk out the door and take her chances in the wilds.

"Come back and sit down," Regina said brusquely. "I'm only half done."

When Mal had sat stiffly back down on the bench, Regina bent to her task again with tight lips. But after a while her face cleared and she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't hurt me that time."

"No. I mean, I'm sorry, for what I said. When I offered you my help, I did it with no expectations of repayment. I still don't expect anything of you. Really. And I'm sorry I seemed to have forgotten that. For a moment."

Mal gave her one of her rare smiles; the one where her eyes filled with warmth and the curve of her mouth was gentle. It didn't last long even when it did happen, but Regina treasured those smiles. "Believe me when I say, I understand the impulse."

When the final stitch had been removed, Mal tapped Regina on the knee and said, "Have you been practicing?"

"Of course."

"Good. Now, I want you to think of this fire."

Regina was surprised; this was late in the day for a lesson, but she closed her eyes and focused on the fire.

"Think of the essence of a flame. See it dancing in your mind; feel it." Mal continued. She gave Regina a few moments, watching her face intently. At the precise moment that Regina felt she had a good sense of the flame, Mal said, "Hold out your palm." She placed her own hand under Regina's outstretched hand, supporting it. "Now Regina, I want you to bring that flame here." She watched Regina frown, her eyes tightening as she concentrated. "There is a place where this flame exists. You can feel it. You _know_ this flame. Bring it here."

And suddenly fire danced in Regina's hand.

It was the size of a candle-flame, but it burned sure and true.

Regina's eyes flew open as she stared in delight at the evidence of her power.

"I did it! I made a fire!"

"A very small flame." Mal drawled.

Regina glared at her then yelped and closed her palm into a fist, extinguishing her fire.

"Did you burn yourself?" Mal forced her fingers open and examined her hand, rubbing gently at the reddened mark in the centre of her palm. "You lost your focus."

"I made a fire." Regina was still smiling.

"Yes. You did well for a first attempt." Mal admitted grudgingly. "Practice. And wear gloves until we're sure you can maintain your focus without hurting yourself."

"I will." Nothing would dampen her happiness now. Not even the fact that she still had to clean Mal's wound. The water had warmed by the fire as she'd worked to remove the stitches, and now she sponged the remnants of ash and dried blood away from Mal's shoulder and chest. When she'd finished, Mal took the hand that had held the magical flame and turned it over so she could examine the palm again. The red mark had eased, the damage not as severe as she had feared.

"Some people will tell you that fire can only be summoned from anger. Because fire must destroy. Those people do not understand fire."

Regina thought of the magic that had been used to restrain her. "Like the person who taught my mother," she said, her voice small.

"If you draw your power from anger, Regina, it will burn. And not only those you turn it against. This is what I mean when I tell you there must be balance. Be angry; no one would begrudge you your anger. But do not make anger the base of your power."

"That seems like a difficult lesson to learn."

"Oh yes. And it's often a lesson we have to relearn anew."

"Thank you. For being patient with me." Regina said.

Mal curled one long-fingered hand under Regina's chin and stared into her eyes. Whatever she saw there caused her mouth to quirk into a self-deprecating grin. "You're welcome." She stood abruptly and moved to the bed, preparing herself for sleep.

Regina tidied away the implements she'd used, tossing the dirty bandages into the fire; they were beyond re-use, and besides, Mal's wound had closed well. It would be angry-red and sore for a while, and it would leave a jagged scar, but at least the damage was healing and no longer threatened her life. She looked up as Mal groaned. She had dried the water off and was pulling her tunic back over her head.

"This is not a complaint, Regina, but do you know what I would love right now? A bath."

"A bath?" Regina replied, stupidly.

"Yes. You know, of all the so-called luxuries I could be missing, all I want is to be able to immerse myself in a tub of hot water."

Regina looked around the hut. "We should be able to spare the wood, and I could probably get enough water out of the well, but I'm not sure we have anything big enough-"

"Regina! Did you not hear me say - I am not complaining. I don't expect you to build me a bathtub!"

"Oh."

"Is there nothing, that you miss?"

"Oh." Regina realised Mal was making small talk with her. It was such an unusual occurrence - for Mal to initiate conversation simply for conversation's sake - that Regina's response was pure honesty. "No. Everything I want is right here."

Mal's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed. She shook her head. "As I said, a rare creature."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina finds out what the soldiers are hunting, and gets a new hobby.

The next morning, after an early breakfast, Regina hitched up the cart behind Rocinante and packed it with all the goods she would try to trade in town.

"You're taking two rabbits?" Mal asked when she noticed the smoked carcasses. "Worried you may get a bit peckish on the road?"

Regina grinned. "I didn't think you'd miss them. Rabbit's not a favourite, is it?"

"And here I thought I was hiding it so well."

"We have sufficient meat now. I can trade these for something...useful."

"Hmm."

"I'll be back by sundown."

"And if you're not, I'll come looking for you."

"Sure." Regina said distractedly, "Though you won't get very far on foot."

"I know. So it may take me a while."

Regina glanced up from her packing, noticing the seriousness in Mal's tone. "Mal, you're still healing. You're not strong enough to-"

"Regina. If you do not return, I will come looking for you. And because, as you say, I am still healing, it may take me a while. But I will find you. Do you understand? If you run into some trouble - say some more red and golds - I want you to remember that I will come for you. So you do whatever it takes to stay alive."

"Mal-"

"Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes."

"Good. So, until sundown then?"

"Unless I find some other mysterious woman injured in the road."

"Regina." Mal said warningly.

"Sundown."

As she rode through the woods, Regina wasn't entirely sure how she felt about having somebody worry about when she'd return or whether she'd be safe on her journey. On the one hand, she'd grown accustomed to coming and going as she pleased and to being accountable to no one but herself. But on the other hand, it was undeniably pleasant to know that someone was expecting her home. And because that person was Mal, she knew better than to be late. If Mal did go out into the dark searching for her, the odds were good that she'd injure herself further, and if that happened she'd never let Regina forget it. So all in all it was better to be safe than sorry, Regina decided, and to be extra careful while in town.

 

As soon as Regina made it to the outskirts of the town she noticed the soldiers, their bright red cloaks standing in stark contrast to the drab colours of the buildings and the slurry of muddy snow the roads had become. The men were milling about all over town, although they seemed to congregate mostly outside the tavern and the house that Regina had heard described as 'the honey pot.' She could guess which particular kinds of bees were gathered there; her old friend Leywin for a start.

Grimauld's store however was blessedly free of red and gold. It had been stripped of alcohol but most of his other goods had not caught the interest of the soldiers. He grumbled bitterly about how the men had taken over the economic life of the town, like a swarm of locusts who paid in gold but devoured everything worth buying anyway. Regina let him complain. It made negotiating with him much more profitable when he was distracted by his own misery.

"Why are they here?" she asked when there was a pause in his litany of woes, eager to keep him thinking about anything else other than the amount of salt and rye she could trade for five rabbit pelts.

"They're hunting a monster they say. A dragon." He lowered his voice when he said it. "Just what we need. A bloody big fire-breathing fiend that likes the taste of manflesh!"

"A dragon? Surely those are just - stories." Despite herself, Regina was intrigued.

"Not to hear this lot talk. They had the beast chained and bound they say. And then somehow they let it go. And they tracked it here." Grimauld shuddered. "Eight men they say, roasted alive in their armour and eaten for a snack."

Regina grimaced in horror. "Has there been any sign of it?" She feared for Mal, alone in the woods.

"No. Not so's you'd know about it anyway. Something that big and hungry, you'd think it'd be easy to spot eh? Apparently this Maleficent is pretty good at hiding."

"Maleficent?"

"That's what they call the beast. Good name, isn't it? You can just feel the evil of it." He shuddered again.

"Well I hope they find it quickly." Regina said.

"Aye. Before it burns and eats us all."

Regina finished her transaction with the storekeeper quickly after that. She was eager to return home, to tell Mal the stories the soldiers were spreading. She decided they'd come up with this story as a ruse to conceal their true objective. Distract the populace with tales of a dragon, and no one would notice if you hunted and tortured a mysterious woman.

She had just one more stop to make before returning to the woods though, at a dilapidated building on the very edge of the town line. This had been a grand house at one time, but now it had fallen into disrepair, its only occupant a doddering old woman who Regina doubted would see another winter. She still had an appetite though, and she was eager to trade for the two rabbits Regina carried. 

 

The last light of the day was fading when Regina pulled up into the clearing. Mal was standing in the doorway of the hut. She nodded hello and went to help unload the cart.

"Successful trip I see," she said drily as she picked up an armload of canvas bags.

"Leave the heavy things!" Regina warned; she had unhitched Rocinante and was walking him around the clearing to help him cool down. "I'll bring those in later."

"Yes, dear." Mal's voice was only faintly sarcastic. "I'll be careful."

She left Regina to care for her horse and went indoors. When he'd been properly stabled, Regina started to haul the heavier provisions out of the cart; more sacks of vegetables mostly. She stepped through the front door, a sack of potatoes balanced on her shoulder, and stopped abruptly. The fire was lit and burning brightly, making the hut's interior comfortingly warm. There was stew bubbling in the cauldron. One bench was laid with plates and cups. She could smell the scent of tea and lemon. Mal was just finishing putting away the provisions she'd carried in, and everything was neat and tidy and ready for the evening meal.

Regina dropped the sack of potatoes with a thud, gulped, and burst into tears.

She felt Mal's hands on her shoulders, shaking her not ungently. "Regina, what is wrong"?

The concern in her voice did not help Regina stop crying. Nor did Mal taking her hand and half-dragging her to a bench where she sat her down in her lap and cradled her. All this only made Regina cry harder.

"What is the matter, Regina?" Mal's demanding tone usually got a response. Not this time. "Did I do something wrong? Did I...what - use the wrong plates? Cook the stew wrong? Regina! Why do you cry?!"

It was Mal's anguish that reached her.

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I don't. It's just...I've been away so many times. And when I come back...the hut...it's dark and cold, and I have to start the fire again-" she pointed to where the fire blazed "and put the stew on, and put things away, and..and..I've never had anyone wait for me, or do things for me. I've been alone for so long, I forgot what it was like. I forgot."

Mal let her speak on until the babble finally wound down. And then, to Regina's great shock, she kissed her forehead.

"Well." A pause, then, brusquely, "Wash your face. And your hands. Before the stew dries up."

"You made stew!"

"I've watched you so often, I could do it in my sleep now."

"Thank you, Mal."

"Regina...do you remember when you told me that you helped me without expectation of return?" Regina nodded, and Mal continued. "I don't expect your thanks when I do something as simple as cook you a meal."

If it was strange to be having this conversation with Regina still in Mal's lap, neither woman mentioned it. Regina lowered her head to Mal's shoulder and wasn't rebuffed. "Even so. I _am_ grateful. Just because you don't expect it, doesn't mean I won't give it."

Mal huffed. "Fine. Can we at least agree on no more tears?"

"We can try." Regina replied, grinning. She felt much calmer now, and she hopped off Mal's lap and went to wash up while Mal served the meal.

As they ate, Regina told her the story of the dragon hunt, and what a dastardly picture the soldiers were painting of the monster they were searching for. Mal was quiet until Regina finished explaining her theory about the story being a distraction from the soldiers' true purpose. Then finally she smiled, although it wasn't a pleasant smile.

"I wonder how many people will be as logical about dragons as you are, my dear."

Regina shrugged. "The townspeople are scared. Which may be good for us. Less likely for them to be wandering in the woods now."

"They're scared because they may get roasted and eaten by Maleficent." 

"Well, wouldn't you be? Those soldiers have spread this story quite thickly. Even Grimauld, who has _no_ imagination, was completely taken by it."

"Wonderful. More people who blindly believe the worst of dragons."

Regina placed a calming hand on Mal's arm. "Hey. While they are so worried about dragons, at least they aren't paying attention to you. Right?"

Mal's response was a bitter laugh. She stood and cleared away the plates, leaving Regina confused. Instead of worrying at it, she decided to finish bringing in the vegetables. By the time she'd finished, Mal had cleaned up the cutlery and utensils and the pot had been scrubbed clean and put away. Mal herself was sat brooding on one of the benches, staring into the fire from under hooded eyes. Regina cleared her throat, and Mal glared at her. She noticed the paper-wrapped parcel that Regina was holding in front of her like a shield.

"What is that? More onions?"

"No. It's...a gift, I suppose. Something for you."

"Why?"

Regina shrugged. "I thought you'd like it."

Mal glared at her some more, then extended her hand haughtily.

Regina moved forward slowly and placed the parcel in Mal's hand. She felt the heft of it with surprise and pulled it her lap so she could unwrap it. Under the coarse paper, she found two books. Regina watched the warring emotions on Mal's face, the grouchiness battling with and finally losing to pleased surprise.

"It's books." Regina said, so unnecessarily that even she cringed when the words had left her mouth.

"Yes. I haven't forgotten." Mal said drily. "Where on earth did you find them?"

"A lady, in town. She's been trading off bits and pieces for food for as long as I've known her. She has so many books! At least fifty! She let me have these two for the rabbits."

"Ah."

"This one," she tapped one leather-bound tome, "she said it's a history of the entire Enchanted Forest. This one, this one is stories. I liked the pictures." Mal flipped the pages of the second book and saw the richly coloured illustrations that had caught Regina's fancy. "There's all kinds of stories in there. Some of them about magic...that made me think of you," she finished shyly. 

Regina wasn't sure how to interpret the look on Mal's face. She settled on bemusement. "Do you...not like them? Have you already read them?" Her face fell. She hadn't thought of that possibility until now.

"Oh. Oh no. Regina. This is...just...unexpected. Thank you. This is a lovely gift."

"Oh. Good." Regina smiled. "You're welcome. I worry you get bored sometimes, and I thought this may help."

"Oh, it will."

Mal moved the glass-encased flame she had made closer to her, opened up one of the books - the history book Regina noted - and started to read. Regina nodded, pleased, and went to what had become her side of the hut during their evenings. She had some repairs to make to her snowshoes, and she needed to make some more arrows for her quiver. She felt Mal's gaze on her and looked up.

"Would you like to read the other one? The story book?"

"Oh, no. Thank you. I'm not a big reader."

"You don't read?"

"Not much. I mean, I _can_ read. But I don't really see the point to be honest."

"Don't see the point?" Mal sounded horrified.

"Well, books are really just long lists of things, right? Names and successions of kings and so forth. What you need to know to be a good wife."

"Are those the only books you've ever been given? Books of succession and etiquette?" The horror hadn't left her voice yet.

"Father kept ledger books. Those were useful. Accounts of the farms and hunting lands, that sort of thing. I was good with those."

Mal stared at her as though she was deciding whether to be angry or not. Finally she said, "You still want to learn magic, don't you?"

"Of course!"

"A lot of spells are written down. In books."

"I told you, I _can_ read. Just not very well."

"You'd best read better than 'not very well' if you intend to read a spell book. Otherwise the least of your problems may be ending up with two noses." Mal's smile was suddenly wicked, "And as adorable as your nose is, it is possible to have too much of a good thing."

Regina unconsciously clapped a hand to her nose then glared at Mal. "Fine. I'll practice reading too."

"Good." Mal held out the storybook, and Regina sulked over to take it. She was far more pleased to receive the second glass-encased flame that Mal produced for her. But under Mal's watchful gaze she settled down to read. She flipped through the book until she found a picture of a dragon, drawn in heavy lines across two pages, wings flared, neck extended and fanged mouth open to flame a hapless knight on a horse. Perfect. She traced her finger over the page and mouthed the words as she started to read, "Once upon a time..."

 

Bedtime came around all too soon. Mal wasn't quite as patient a teacher when it came to reading, but she still tolerated Regina's questions about words and phrases, and did she really think that a dragon could eat an entire knight _and_ his horse and still manage to fly, and where did dragons come from anyway, and why didn't we see them around here anymore if they were real, and eventually Mal had said, "Enough. Time for bed, I think."

She refused to regret her decision to encourage Regina to engage with books. She would simply add that to the long list she was developing of things that Cora and Henry Mills would have to pay for. A mind as inquisitive as Regina's needed feeding and nurturing, not locking away until it starved out of sheer boredom. Thank goodness that Regina was far too resourceful a person to accept the hand fate dealt her. She had made her own choices, and was strong enough to live with the consequences of those choices. Still, Mal was looking forward to the day the Mills parents had their reckoning.

She turned down the covers on her bed. It wasn't much, barely twice as wide as her body and stuffed with a mixture of straw and wool, but it was comfortable and a lot better than the thin padding Regina laid down on one of the benches for her bed. The infuriating girl still refused to take back her bed though, insisting that Mal's medical needs outweighed all other considerations. Mal's argument that she was growing stronger every day did not sway Regina. She could be intractable about some things.

Sleep came easily to Mal tonight. This wasn't always the case, but the pains in her body had lessened over time, and she had learned to live with the turmoil of her thoughts. If she'd feared the talk of dragons would stir up bad dreams, she was mistaken. Instead, she dreamed of rolling grass meadows and a woman with flowing dark hair. From the depths of her dream, she heard Regina cry out, and came awake.

The girl was sitting up on the bench, clutching her head in her hands.

Mal rose from the bed to sit besides her. She placed one arm awkwardly around her shoulders. "Bad dream?"

"My mother."

"What was she doing?"

"Nothing. Just ... watching me." Regina shuddered. "I've had this dream before."

Mal stood and tugged Regina to her feet. She drew her back to the bed and made her lie down. Regina was too shaken from her dream to protest, but when Mal lay down besides her she started to say something.

"Shh, _Llamita_." Mal stroked her hands soothingly over Regina's shoulders and hair. They had to lie on their sides to fit comfortably, but this meant that Regina's head tucked neatly under Mal's chin, and she could feel Mal's knees slot in behind hers. Mal's arms were around her, and she felt a warmth spread across and through her.

"What are you doing? Is that magic?"

"Yes," Mal said. "A low-grade shielding spell. It'll calm you. Help you sleep."

"Is that what you do with Rocinante? When he lets you ride him without complaining." She yawned. Whatever Mal was doing, it was working. Regina relaxed into the circle of Mal’s arms.

Mal chuckled. "That horse would never let me near him otherwise. It won't hurt him. I promise. It won't hurt you either. No more bad dreams."

"Just for a moment," Regina said sleepily. "I'll let you have your bed back in a minute."

"Go to sleep, Regina." Mal ordered, settling in for the night. Whatever bad dreams Cora Mills was sending her daughter's way, she'd have Mal to contend with now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Regina takes Mal on a field trip, and Mal tells Regina a story.

When Regina woke it took her a moment to realise where she was. She still felt the lingering warmth of Mal's shielding spell cocooning her in security, but Mal herself was gone. Regina ran her hand over the empty expanse of bed behind her; she was alone. She could not hear movement in the hut either. She rolled over. The fire was lit, a cup of honeyed tea and two rye biscuits waited on the bench for her, the thin mattress she'd started her night on had been rolled up and put away, but there was no sign of Mal. Regina hurried to her feet and out of the door, pausing barely long enough to pull her boots on and wrap herself in a cloak. The sun was higher in the sky than she'd expected. How long had she slept? Regina scanned the clearing for some sign of where Mal had gone. A soft whicker took her first to the stable. Rocinante would be expecting her, wanting his breakfast.

The level of relief she felt when she saw Mal mixing grain in a bucket surprised her. Mal looked up from her task; Regina offered her a tremulous smile, suddenly shy in the woman's presence. Mal's eyebrow quirked. "You look surprised to see me."

"Hello. I mean - you don't have to do that. Here, let me."

"Have you eaten?"

Regina shook her head, and Mal frowned. "Regina, I am not going to abandon you in the woods."

'This is _my_  home!' Regina wanted to say. ' _I_ took _you_ in!' But she didn't. Instead, she said, "He needs some more hay too." Before she turned to leave she added, "And, thank you."

Mal huffed. "Go eat…and you're welcome."

When she was alone in the stable again, with only the horse for company, Mal snarled. Her anger was directed at herself, not at Rocinante. She scratched delicately between his ears, the way she'd seen Regina do so many times. Her spell was keeping him docile, and when she pulled her hand away, he nudged at her, begging her to continue. Mal found it soothing to stroke him. It helped ease some of the agitation she was feeling.

She _should_  have left. That had become clear after Regina had told her how many soldiers were in town, and how close they were. All good sense said that she should have left. But Regina would never let her leave while she was awake, would not understand Mal's reasons. Knowing the infuriating girl, she would have insisted on going with her, saying Mal hadn't healed enough to go on her own. Mal would have had to sneak away in the night. She knew she could survive in these woods, even weak and diminished as she was. She should not be sitting still, waiting for her enemies to catch up with her. And above all, she should know better than to fall into the snare of warm brown eyes. But every time she'd made up her mind to go, she'd looked down at that sleeping face and seen the tears. If Regina had woken truly alone, Mal knew she'd have set out to look for her. She'd have scoured the woods. But she wouldn't have found her, because Mal was good at hiding. And then would come the recriminations. She would blame herself. Wonder what she had done to drive Mal away. Berate herself for not doing things differently. A piece of her big brave, _generous_  heart would have been broken off and mangled. And that would be Mal's fault. She hadn't lied when she'd told Regina she considered her a rare creature. And Mal delighted in rare treasures. She would not allow harm to come to this one. So she'd stayed, holding Regina safe against her, and trying to keep herself from making even unvoiced promises; promises that Regina would probably not want in any case.

When she finally left the sanctuary of the stable her dark mood had eased somewhat. She'd made her decision and there was no point being ill tempered about it now. She'd keep training Regina in her use of magic, she'd rest and get stronger, and when the time came when she was well enough to go, she'd explain to Regina so there'd be no doubt. And then she'd go. A clean break. She wouldn't think of dark hair spread on green grass or the warmth of a body pressed against her own. She wouldn't give in to the temptation to bask in the light of Regina's heart. Mal accepted that light was not for her.

She returned to the hut to find Regina packing. The saddlebags were on the bench besides her, and she was wrapping up strips of dried meat and handfuls of dried fruits and nuts. Mal could see she'd already put extra clothes into one of the bags, and some tinder and a few logs were lashed together ready to be tied behind the saddle.

"Going somewhere?"

Regina nodded. "Yes. We are."

Mal frowned. Regina had shown no sign yet of being a mind reader, so this unexpected trip could not have been due to the argument Mal had been having with herself all night. 

"Do you care to explain?"

"It's a surprise." She sounded so gleeful that Mal let her questioning drop. She'd let herself be surprised.

Still, it was a relief when Regina banked the fire; Mal knew they would be back later, that they were not making some ill-prepared dash for safety from pursuing soldiers. Probably another hunting trip. 

 

The sun shone in a blue sky, but the air was cold when they left the hut. Regina made sure Mal was well wrapped up before helping her mount. Regina led Rocinante in a different direction than when they'd gone hunting, walking along the cliff face for an hour before branching off through a narrow gully that climbed up into the rocks. After another hour of careful progress, picking their way through drifts of snow and sharp outcrops of dark stone, they stood before a sheer face of rock. Mal thought she had been supremely patient, she had not asked questions or commented on the unfriendly terrain, but looking at this forbidding wall, a wall that seemed to be their final destination, she had to virtually bite her tongue to keep from letting slip a cutting remark. Regina looked up at her, her face wreathed in a cocky grin, and Mal growled under her breath. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Mal asked, pointedly polite. 

Regina chuckled in that way she had, warm and throaty. Mal sighed.

They were moving again, passing a curve in the rock that revealed itself to be an opening. Then Regina was leading Rocinante forward through a passageway in the rock face so narrow that if Mal had outstretched her arms, her fingers would have brushed against the sides. Rocinante went quietly, trusting in Regina. It wasn't as dark as Mal would have expected; there was a glimmer of light ahead. 

After a few minutes of walking through the murk, Mal heard Regina say, "Close your eyes."

"Is this really necessary?" Mal asked with a long-suffering sigh. 

"Please?"

Another sigh. "Fine. They're closed." She kept them closed too as Rocinante started walking again. 

She'd felt the change in the quality and temperature of the air and knew they had moved into a place of brighter light even before Regina said "Okay, you can open them now."

She was still surprised.

They stood on a platform of rock looking out over a large cave that seemed to have been hollowed out with an unsteady hand; there were jagged protrusions rising up to meet the candlewax of rock that dripped from the ceiling. The ceiling itself was an undulating dome, rising and falling in uneven waves. There was a wide opening high above them, through which the light of the winter sun shone. The floor of the cave was covered with a chain of interlocking pools, the blue-green water glowing in the sunlight. Steam rose from the water as it flowed gently, gurgling from pool to pool in a series of small waterfalls, before disappearing back into the rock. Mal could feel heat permeate the cold that had seeped into her body during their journey.

She looked at Regina, who was staring up at her with a cautious look.

"It's beautiful."

She was rewarded with a glad smile. "I couldn't build you a bathtub. But I thought, perhaps, a hot spring would be nearly as good?"

"How did you find this place?" Mal demanded as she dismounted.

"Oh. I didn't." Regina admitted. "One of my father's scouts nearly fell into the chimney -" she jabbed a thumb towards the opening in the ceiling. "He found the passage. Father's men didn't come here often. It's too warm for summer, and the river flows down through the gully we walked along. It's perfect for winter though."

"Indeed."

Mal was fumbling with the lacings on her clothing in her haste to get to the water. Regina smiled and hummed to herself as she tended to Rocinante, giving Mal a chance to enjoy what she had called the so-called luxury of hot water. Naked, Mal stood on the lip of a pool, gauging the depth, then dived in smoothly. She glided for a long way then surfaced in a spray of water and an echoing laugh. She floated for a while, revelling in the heat. She found a small ledge at one edge of the pool, jutting out under the water at the perfect height for her to sit on while submerged up to her shoulders. She reclined back against the edge and watched Regina from under lowered lashes. The warmth was relaxing; it permeated her muscles, soothing any tightness, lulling her with the sense of weightlessness. Regina had finished with Rocinante and was stripping off her own clothes now. It made Mal smile when Regina gathered up all their discarded clothing and found a smaller pool to wash them in. She closed her eyes until the sound of clothes slapping against rock stopped. When she looked again, Regina had spread the wet clothes against a large outcropping and was walking towards Mal's pool. Mal realised her eyes were roving appreciatively over Regina's body, and she swore under her breath. She had thought of her as a girl for weeks now, even though they had seen each other unclothed several times. But Regina was not a girl, and something about the heat and sultry air in the cave was making Mal pay particular attention to the sway of Regina's hips and the full swell of her breasts. She closed her eyes against the sight.

She heard Regina enter the water, more cautiously than Mal had. Heard her swim towards her. Curse the fates, why were they testing her so?

She knew when Regina was directly in front of her, but she was not expecting the gentle brush of her fingers against the healing scar in her chest. Mal's eyes flew open, but Regina's focus was on the scar. It was still swollen and red, and so she just barely skimmed the tips of her fingers against it, tracing along its length. Mal shivered.

"Does it hurt? With the heat?"

It stung worse than when Regina had sewed her back together, but days of torture would not make her admit that. Regina would make her get out of the water.

"No. It feels wonderful."

Regina's fingers continued to brush against Mal's body, following along the lines of scars and welts that crisscrossed her belly. If she noticed that Mal's breathing changed, growing harsh and shallow, she did not remark on it.

"No pain?"

"No." Her voice betrayed her too, coarse and raw.

"Hmm. That's good." Was Regina's voice always that husky? Surely she wasn't aware what she was doing. Mal decided she had obviously cursed the fates once too often. This was their revenge. Placing her in the helpless thrall of a girl - a woman - whose lightest touch left her shivering and whose voice sent fire dancing along her veins. She bowed her head in defeat, her face lowered almost to Regina's shoulder.

She could feel Regina's gaze on her, felt her move closer. She was leaning forward, angling her head under Mal's as though she wanted to look into Mal's eyes. Mal closed her eyes, seeking what little protection she could behind lowered lashes.

Then Regina's mouth was on hers, soft and warm. Everything in Mal stopped; her breathing, her thinking, her knowing of what should and shouldn't be. All that mattered was that Regina was kissing her, that her tongue was tracing gently along Mal's lower lip. Mal groaned, a sound that reverberated through her chest. It made Regina kiss her harder, and finally Mal came to her senses. She put her hands on Regina's shoulders and gently pushed her back.

"Regina. No."

Regina pulled back and Mal saw the shame in her eyes before her expression shuttered closed to a blank look. "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted-" She moved back further and Mal realised she couldn't let her go, not without some kind of explanation.

She reached for her again, this time to stop her from fleeing.

"Regina, you are very...desirable. I want you. Very much. Do not doubt that. But I can't. I won't. Not now."

Regina had let herself be stopped, let Mal hold her hands so that she could not float away. But she lowered her head and turned her face aside.

"Why not?" Her voice rasped with humiliation. Mal felt her heart sink.

"There are things about me you don't know. Yet."

This at least brought Regina's eyes back to Mal's, and replaced the discomfort in her face with confusion. "What sort of things?"

"Things I can't tell you. Yet." Mal offered, having the grace to sound shamefaced. She wouldn't blame Regina if she responded with anger, and so when the fury flared in her eyes, Mal was ready for it. "I know. I know. I keep asking you for patience. All I can do is assure you that when I can, I  _will_  tell you. Then, if you still want - this - then perhaps we can try again."  _But you won't want this. Not once you know_. 

"Are you married?"

Mal's eyes widened in shock and she couldn't prevent the surprised bark of laughter. "No. No. Nothing like that."

Regina glared at her for a good long while, eyes narrowed and calculating. "You promise. You'll tell me? Whatever it is?"

"The very moment I am able." Mal said earnestly.

Regina sighed, "Very well. I'll be patient. Again." 

Without thought, Mal raised Regina's hand to her mouth and brushed her lips against her knuckles. "Thank you."

The tightness went out of Regina's body and she started drifting closer to Mal. There was nothing Mal would have liked better than to draw her back into her arms, but instead she shifted along the ledge giving Regina room to sit next to her. The water reached nearly to her neck, but Mal still kept her eyes facing forward.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

"You know I love your stories."

"This one is a bit different than the others. This one is about me."

"Oh." Regina sounded enchanted. "I can't wait." She shifted closer, and Mal found it more comfortable to move her arm so that it lay along the edge of the pool, allowing Regina to settle against her side. She put her head on Mal's shoulder, and Mal tried to remind herself that cursing the fates was what got her into this trouble in the first place. So it was probably just better to tell the story and hope that Regina would understand.

 

_There was a woman once who lived, alone, in a stronghold she had built with her own hands. In fact, everything around her she had either made or won or taken using only her strength or her wits. There was no reason for her to be excessively proud of this. It was just the way of her people._

_Solitude was also the way of her people. But in this, the woman was different. After a long time, long years which she spent traveling the world, gathering many treasures, she decided that perhaps she wanted more. Maybe it was that she wondered about the hands that had woven the beautiful tapestries that hung on her walls. Or maybe she was curious about the minds that crafted the ingenious furniture and implements that filled her halls. Perhaps she was intrigued by the nature of the souls that wrote the poetry and music she devoured so greedily._

_It does not matter what motivated her. What does matter is that she left her stronghold and went out into the world again. But this time, the treasures she gathered were the stories of people. She spoke to old women, bent under heavy loads. She spoke to tall, proud, warriors. She met artists and farmers and bakers ... all kinds of people. And she gathered all their stories to add to her hoard. As her journey lengthened, she discovered that she loved these people more than she did all the riches she had gathered in her stronghold. And while she rejoiced in her new discoveries, she did not recognise the danger she had placed herself in._

_She had met princesses before. Flighty creatures, worse than fairies, nothing but froth and fancy. But this princess, this Briar Rose, she was different somehow. Where others laughed, she was sombre. So when she did laugh, it was a delight. And the woman delighted in making her laugh. She delighted in seeing the world through her eyes; in listening to her sing; in watching her dance; in walking with her in the gardens where they talked of many, many things. This was, perhaps, the first time the woman had loved another creature as something that was not a possession._

_So she stayed. She stayed for a very long time. Even though the princess did not love quite the same way the woman did, they found a way to be happy. In the safety of this happiness, the woman let the princess into her heart, let the princess see what no one else had._

_And perhaps that would have been the end to this story. That the woman and the princess lived, in some form of happiness, for the rest of their lives._

_But then the man came. The king. He was tall and broad and valiant. His weapons bright and his words fair. He laid his sword before the princess and spoke to her of love, of destiny._

_The woman saw what the princess did not. Where the princess saw bravery, the woman saw ruthlessness. Where the princess saw bright shining blades, the woman saw weapons worn sharp with use. Where the princess heard 'love' and 'destiny', the woman heard 'possession' and 'control'._

_She tried to warn the princess, but her words went unheeded. The princess believed the woman spoke from jealousy; that she wanted to keep the princess's love for herself, to not lose her to the king. And so she sent the woman away, banished her from her presence._

_But the woman did not go far. She still loved the princess and still hoped she could save her. So she stayed nearby, on a desolate mountain, so that she could be close when the princess needed her. And when the princess did call for her, she came gladly._

_But she was deceived._

_You see, the princess had told the king of the woman, told him of the power of her magic. And the king's eyes had grown greedy, and he had lusted after this power. Together, they plotted. How could they take this power for their own, bend it to their own use? So when the woman returned to the gardens where she had walked with the princess, when she returned unguarded and unprotected, the king was waiting. He captured the woman, knew exactly what to do because the princess had told him everything he needed to know. And though the woman raged and fought, it was too late. And the king had her in chains and shackled._

_He took her. And he kept her. For a long time. A very long time. But though he tried everything he could to take her power, in this, he was unsuccessful. He set his lapdog on her, but even though he managed to bind her, holding her with chains and magic, he could not break her._

_And then one day, the woman escaped. Though she was wounded, she managed to flee, and to find sanctuary. But the king hunts her still, with his lapdog and his soldiers and his bright shining greed._

 

Mal stopped speaking because tears were running down Regina's face.

"Oh  _Llamita._  You promised me, no more tears."

"I promised to try." Regina sniffled. "I'll keep you safe, Mal."

Mal smiled down at her, and pulled her closer to her side. "I know, Regina. So, now you know why I must hide. I have to be strong enough to face King Stefan and his dog."

"Surely a dog isn't that much-"

"When I say 'dog', I mean a bitter, twisted, excuse for man. Rumplestiltskin. He has some ability with magic, and Stefan thought to use him against me, to shackle me so I could not use my magic to defend myself. He's using him now, to track me."

"By your scent?" Regina was worried. "A good dog can track that even in snow."

"It's my magic he'll be tracking. It has a particular...flavour. And he's very adept at sniffing it out."

"Then why are you training me? Doing all these spells! You have to stop!" She was growing more and more agitated, turning to face Mal and shaking her shoulder urgently.

"Regina. Be still. It's fine. Training you doesn't use  _my_  magic. And the spells I am doing, they are weak. Anyone could do them. They do not carry my mark."

"You're sure? The shielding spell you used for me-"

"It is a very low level- I am not arguing this point with you. I am not stopping shielding you!"

Regina glared at her until Mal finally said quietly, "I assure you Regina. I have no interest in risking either of our lives."

This seemed to assuage Regina's worry, and she settled back onto the ledge. She took hold of Mal's hand, and laughed when she saw the wrinkles in her fingers. "I think you've had enough hot water. I don't want you to be stewed. Besides, we should be getting back, if we want to make it home before sundown."

Mal held her back for a moment longer. "Everything will be fine Regina. Stefan will not take me unaware again."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where quite a lot of revelations happen, and Mal and Regina take a trip.

They arrived back at the hut without incident, falling into what had already become a routine; Regina tended to Rocinante while Mal stowed the clean clothes and left-over provisions away. Their conversation was inconsequential, touching on nothing of import, as though they had mutually agreed to avoid talking about the revelations Mal had made. It had been easier to speak of old loves and betrayal when wreathed in the warmth and steam of the hot springs. But cold reality called for lighter topics. It was only when bedtime came around that they encountered a slight hiccup. Regina took out the thin padding to place on the bench for her bed. Mal glared at her.

"No," she said with finality. "You aren't sleeping on that thing again."

"But-"

"Regina, I'm not listening to you have any more nightmares. It disturbs _my_ sleep."

Regina returned her glare with equal measure, but gave in eventually.

As they settled in for the night, Mal's arms going automatically around Regina's body to draw her close, Regina felt the shielding spell grow stronger around her. It felt like Mal: prickly but gentle at the same time, and always that sense of stability and warmth. She turned her head and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Mal's mouth, and felt the smile before the tiny growl of warning. Regina grinned broadly as she turned her head away again. "I'll behave," she whispered. She got a disbelieving huff in response, but Mal didn't loosen her hold or try to push her away.

Regina slept, free of any sign or thought of her mother. Mal's sleep was shallower, more watchful, and her dreams were tinged with regret. She was grumpy when they woke, her mood not helped by the howling snowstorm that had started up over night. Regina didn't risk kissing her again, and left Mal to her bad mood and breakfast preparations while she went to take care of Rocinante and draw fresh water from the well. Fighting against the wind and blowing snow, she had nearly made it to the door of the hut with a full bucket when Cora appeared before her in a swirl of purple smoke.

For a handful of seconds Regina assumed she was dreaming all this, and if she forced herself she would wake and find herself warm and secure in bed with Mal. But the wind was cold and cutting, and Cora's hand was on her cheek, as real as the bucket hitting the ground and the slosh of water soaking her feet. She took one gasping breath, not sure whether she would release it in a scream or a curse.

"Hello, my dear," Cora was saying in syrupy tones, "Did you miss your mother?"

Then Mal was in the doorway, magic thrusting from her outstretched hands. Cora was flung across the clearing, leaving a furrow in the snow as her body skidded across the ground. Mal didn't waste time asking if Regina was okay, she was limping to place herself between Cora and Regina, her hand already curling to draw forth more magic.

"Mal, no!" Regina cried. She remembered, even if Mal did not, that Stefan's dog was tracking her. She grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Let me handle her."

Mal stopped her forward movement, letting Regina walk towards her mother. Cora had got back to her feet and with a wave of magic had restored her dress to its pristine condition. She stood proudly before her daughter, the wind whipping her skirts around her ankles, but not a hair on her head out of place.

"What are you doing here, mother?" Regina snarled.

"Really, my dear, anyone would think you weren't pleased to see me. After all I've done for you. Allowing you to have this..." she waved her hands at the clearing and collection of huts "...this...aberrant holiday from doing your duty-"

"This was no holiday!" Regina said angrily. "Wait, how did you know where to find me?"

"Oh dear. Did you think that this little hideaway was a secret? Really, Regina. Your mother isn't a fool. I have always known _exactly_ where you are, and what you are doing."

"No."

"Just as I knew exactly when you'd taken up with that loathsome creature. Enough is enough, Regina. It's time to stop this nonsense and come home."

Regina had gone quiet, her head bowed. Cora and Mal both stepped forward in the same moment, one to complete her victory, the other to pound the attacker back into the ground. Regina stopped them both with a word.

"No." This was not the voice of defeat. "I am not going with you mother. It is not nonsense to want to make my own choices. And Mal is _not_ loathsome!" As she spoke she curled her hand to focus her power, as Mal had taught her; when she spat out the word 'loathsome' a blazing fireball filled her palm. The falling snow sizzled as it touched the flame. Regina moved her arm back, ready to throw. "You need to leave mother. Now."

Cora's eyes had widened in shock at the sight of the fire, and she stumbled backwards. "How are you doing that? You shouldn't be able to-" She glared at Mal. "You..you... _monster!"_ She looked back at Regina, pleadingly. "Regina. Darling. You wouldn't hurt your own mother, would you?"

Regina snarled. "I'm offering you a choice, mother, which is more than you ever gave me." The fireball burned hotly in her palm, the size and intensity not diminishing a whit.

Cora's face twisted in anger and hate. "Fine. I'll go. But you will pay!" A flash of purple smoke and she was gone.

Regina stood staring at the spot her mother had just been, her palm still full of fire. Mal touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Regina?"

"Oh. Right." She closed her palm, dissipating the flame.

"Are you alright?" She took Regina's hand and examined the palm. The skin was unblemished and cool to the touch.

Regina smiled sadly up at her. "Like you said; don't draw your power from anger."

Mal kept rubbing gently at Regina's palm, as though soothing an invisible hurt. "You learn well," her voice was soft and proud.

"It was the dreams," Regina said, indignantly. "She was spying on me as I slept, wasn’t she?"

Mal frowned. "That does make sense. It may explain why she was here now – she can’t break through my shielding spell into your dreams anymore." Then she shook her head. "She'll be back."

"Yes. Probably with my father. She knows it will be hard for me to see him hurt."

"We need to make a decision then. Stay and face them, or leave."

"I don't think I want to stay," Regina admitted, shamefaced. "Now that I know she knew I was here. That it was all a big joke to her- This place doesn't feel the same anymore."

"She can't take away what you accomplished here." Mal countered.

"I know. But it's tainted now. All this time, all this was an illusion. I was still on her leash."

"Then we'll go somewhere it isn't an illusion." Mal said flatly. "Take only what we need for a few days journey; we leave as soon as you're ready."

 

Two hours later, and despite the still raging storm, their little company was already trekking into the forest. Regina led Rocinante, picking out a path through the trees that would allow the cart to pass; Mal sat in the cart, sending out light pulses of magic to brush the snow back, not trusting the new snowfall to cover their tracks sufficiently. Mal had given Regina a general direction to head "towards my lair." That would be their final destination; a place that Mal assured her would be defensible against all comers.

Regina had to call a halt. Close-growing trees blocked the way ahead, and she needed to find either a way around or through. She would have to scout on her own then come back and get the cart. She huddled into her cloak and bent into the wind, sinking knee-deep into snow drifts in some places. They would have to be very careful to not get the cart stuck. As she moved between the trees she heard breaking branches, turned to see if Mal was following her, and found herself at sword-point. She looked up into eyes she recognised - the intelligent, angry, gaze of the Captain who had stopped them in the road. He held a finger up to his lips.

She saw other men emerge from behind the trees, their red and gold uniforms hidden underneath grey cloaks. Cora was there too, trudging through the snow, allowing herself to look worn and battered by the storm.

"Thank you for saving my daughter from that monster," Cora said cloyingly to the Captain. She got the same gesture commanding silence. The Captain waved a man over; Regina recognised him too. This was Leywin the Lecherous. He was given charge of her, and he eagerly wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing his sword to hold across her neck. Regina tested how much room there was between skin and blade; if she moved her head back sharply she could probably get one loud shout out before Leywin slit her throat. It'd be worth it. The thought of Mal being ambushed without warning was far worse than any risk of her own death.

But even as she started to make her move she felt a dark dread fill her, turning her voice to dust in her throat. The men called out in fear; two of them dropped their swords and turned to run, floundering through the snow. Then, like a nightmare come to life, there was a dragon. Covered in armoured scales from the top of its horned head to the tip of its barbed tail, coloured the angry purple of a bruise; wings outstretched like a shadow of doom; a roar that was the death rattle of a hundred men.

 "Maleficent!" the Captain shouted like a battle cry, drew his sword and ran towards the beast. The dragon swept him aside with a clawed fist, flinging him into a tree, as a child would throw away an unwanted toy.

Regina could hear Leywin whimper and sob behind her. He started dragging her backwards, keeping her between him and the dragon. Cora was screaming for the remaining men to attack. A few did, and charged into a wall of green fire, falling to roll howling in the snow as the flames roiled over them. Then the dragon leapt towards Leywin, towering over him and his captive, and roared down at them both. Regina felt the hot rush of breath, but it did not harm her. Leywin however screamed that he was being boiled alive. He pushed Regina from him and ran. Regina faced the dragon alone; even Cora had gone, vanishing in a swirl of magic.

The dragon closed a fist around Regina's body and she felt a harsh shake. In the next blink she found herself back in front of the hut, Rocinante rearing and screaming in terror besides her, and the dragon collapsing into smoke to reveal Mal on her knees, coughing the very life breath from her lungs. 

Regina had to grab hold of Rocinante's reins, before he kicked her or Mal. As she fought to soothe her horse, she could hear Mal still coughing with rib-cracking intensity. By the time she had calmed him, Mal was still on her knees but the coughing at least had stopped. Regina dropped to her knees besides Mal and flung her arms around her shaking body.

"You're a dragon!"

"Yes." Harsh and grating, but at least she could speak.

" _You're_ Maleficent!"

"Yes, Regina. I know."

"Are you alright?"

"I have been better."

"Can you stand?"

"Not yet." Her voice was growing stronger though. "More men will be here. Soon. It's decision time again."

"What do mean? You're a dragon! You can-"

"I don't think I can, my dear. Curse Rumplestiltskin and his thrice-damned magic. I'm not yet rid of his binding spell."

"Stefan - he'll know you're here now."

"Yes. So, I should go. Now."

"Ye- wait, what do you mean _I_ should go. I am going with you."

"Regina, your mother has obviously told the soldiers that I was keeping you prisoner. If you stay and let them rescue you-"

"I am not abandoning you!"

"You will be safer here! Not on the run with a fugitive, crippled, dragon!"

"Fine. You go ahead and leave on your own. I'll just follow behind." Regina's brow had furrowed into a stubborn frown and her mouth had firmed with determination. Mal sighed.

"Very well. We go together. I can't use the dragon, but I can still 'port us. Hopefully far enough."

"Okay. Good." Regina nodded, pleased to have got her way so easily.

"I can't bring much with us though. My magic is still too restricted."

"Oh."

"So, besides Rocinante, what do you want to take with you?"

"Oh." Happy tears sprang to Regina's eyes, and she gave Mal a broad, if watery, smile. "You'll bring him? He's not too heavy?"

"I know better than to leave the damned horse behind." Mal growled. "Was there something else you'd like to take?"

Regina shook her head, and said earnestly, "No. Everything I want is right here."

Mal smiled and cupped Regina's cheek for a moment. Then she sighed and heaved herself to her feet. "Well, there's something _I_ want. Unhitch the cart; we'll have to leave that. Put what you can into the saddle bags."

Regina was already working before she had finished speaking.

Mal returned carrying only the two books Regina had gifted her. She glowered at Regina, daring her to comment as she shoved them into a saddlebag. Regina looked surprised, and not a little pleased, but held her tongue.

Once the books were safely stowed, Mal told Regina to mount up. "Easier for me if you're on his back. I don't want to leave parts of you behind." The small smile told Regina she was joking. Probably. She climbed into the saddle without argument.

Mal took Rocinante's reins in one hand, closed her eyes and started to gather her power. Regina could feel the magic build up. She saw Mal start to sway on her feet, but was too nervous to interrupt. She felt the magic swirl around her, felt the same harsh shake as before, but it went on for much longer - at least six heartbeats. Then they were standing in the middle of a grey plain that stretched on unbroken for miles in every direction. Mal was on her knees again, retching and coughing, her nose bloodied. Rocinante had taken this 'port much more calmly, and so Regina flung herself from his back to fall to her knees besides Mal. She gathered her up in her arms and held her as she shook and coughed. It took much longer for her to return to some semblance of normalcy this time. Regina helped her to sit up, leaning against a convenient boulder, and fetched the water skin. She wiped the blood away from Mal's face and let her take a sparse sip of water. Mal looked like she hadn't slept in days, her face was pallid, her eyes sunken and bruised. Her hands shook so much Regina had to hold the water skin when she took a drink. It broke Regina's heart to see her.

"How far are we? From the forest?" she asked.

Mal shrugged. "Two hundred miles. Not far enough." She pointed at a mountain, just visible in the far distance. "That's what I was aiming for. Behind that mountain is my lair."

"Can we walk it?"

"There's nothing between us and the mountain but this desert. No water, or food. Walking isn't an option. Not unless you packed a lot more into those saddlebags than I thought."

"But you can't use magic again Mal! It's killing you."

"I'll rest. Gather my strength. We'll go again in the morning. See how much closer I can get us."

Mal sat quietly against the boulder while Regina made camp. They'd have to sleep on open ground, with only their cloaks for coverings, and Rocinante would have to make do with grain and a few mouthfuls of water, but none of them would starve, or freeze to death. Even in this desert, a few shrubs grew, dry and thorny. Regina gathered up a pile and set a fireball among them. Soon they had a cheerful blaze going, warding off the cold and the creeping dark. 

Eventually she ran out of chores, and she had to stop being busy, and sit across the fire from Mal.

"Ask." Mal said, when Regina was finally still.

"You're a dragon."

"Yes."

"You're...beautiful."

Mal looked shocked, and then she laughed, helplessly, wrapping her arms around herself to stop her ribs from aching.

"What?" Regina demanded, affronted. "You are!"

"Oh Regina. If the fates grant me only one wish, it would be that I live long enough to see the day that you finally stop surprising me."

Regina huffed. "I don't know why that would surprise you. The fact that you actually exist...I can't believe it!" She took a deep breath, calming herself, then asked, "How long have you been a dragon?"

"A long time." Mal grinned. Being quizzed by Regina was such a familiar part of their evenings that she was beginning to feel better, managing to forget the pain that clasped around her ribs and her heart. "From the moment I was born."

"But you look human!"

"Some of us prefer this form, some prefer the dragon form." Mal shrugged. "It's a matter of taste - of where and how you choose to live."

"Oh. Rocinante - he knew!"

"Yes. He did." Mal glared at the horse where he stood happily munching at his small meal of grain.

"I know you can breathe fire. Can you fly?"

"Usually. Not just now though. I can barely hold the dragon long enough to scare off a handful of cowards."

"What has Rumplestiltskin done to you? Will you ever be able to use your magic properly again?"

Mal snarled. "It was when Stefan was holding me prisoner. They had me chained, and they couldn't risk me turning into the dragon. Their chains would do them no good then. So Rumplestiltskin, he put a binding spell around the source of my power - my heart. Any time I'd try to use my magic - to defend myself or to escape - the spell would tighten and squeeze around my heart. His spell is fading, but slowly."

"Can you tell me now, why Stefan hunts you?"

Mal sighed. Regina had been patient for so long - far longer than Mal would have been had their roles been reversed. She owed her answers, no matter how much it hurt her to talk about it.

"He wants my heart."

"He wants you to love him? But I thought-"

"No. He _literally_ wants my heart. The source of my magic. A dragon's heart is a powerful thing, Regina. It can bestow great favours upon whoever holds it. Near-immortality, access to endless magical power. For a man who wants to conquer everything he sees, a dragon's heart is an irresistible weapon. The moment Briar Rose told him about it, he had to have it." 

Regina glanced at where she knew the scar ran down Mal's chest. Mal nodded. "Yes. The day I escaped - I had decided that I was done fighting. I had been storing up a little power everyday, without Rumple realising what I was doing. Building up a magical charge so powerful that when he put his hands on my heart, it would rip through him, destroying him and everything around him."

"Including yourself."

"Including myself. But when he had me shackled to the table, I suddenly found I was not ready for death. His hands were already inside me, but I was able to use that charge of magic to throw him off and break free. Then I used what was left to 'port towards home and safety. I only made it as far as you." A thoughtful look crossed her face. "I suppose, that comes to the same thing."

Regina could not stay on her side of the fire anymore. She moved over to sit by Mal's side, and put her arms around her, gathering her close. Mal sighed, too weak to resist and in too much pain to want to. 

"So," Mal continued, her voice slightly muffled as her face was snuggled into Regina's neck. "Now you know everything."

"Except, if you really did burn and eat eight men."

Mal went very still. "What do you think?"

"I don't think you did," Regina said firmly. "You wouldn't eat anyone."

Mal sighed. "I didn't eat them. I don't eat people. But I did kill them."

"Oh."

"When I was fighting off Stefan's men." Mal clarified. "They tried to stop me escaping. I killed them. Burned them to a crisp."

"Oh."

Mal listened to Regina's heartbeat; it had sped up at her confession of the killing, and was only now slowing. She waited for the horror and the rejection that would follow.

"You did what you had to." Regina said in a steady voice. "To stay alive. They would have done the same to you. Worse. They had no reason to harm you. Only selfish reasons to harm you."

Mal listened, saying nothing, as Regina explained why she was refusing to see Mal as a monster. Why she could not see Mal as a monster. The fates must mean for her to live a while longer, because this was still not the day that this woman, this small, fragile human with the indomitable heart, had stopped surprising her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey to the lair comes at a price, and isn't quite what Regina expected.

In the morning Mal was still too weak, with too much crushing pain around her heart, for her to try moving them. "A few more hours of rest," she said bleakly. "I don't want to risk putting us in a worse situation than we are now."

Regina swallowed down her fear. Mal must be far sicker even than she looked if she was asking for more time to rest. To distract them both, she asked Mal if she could learn the teleportation spell. Mal had said that teaching used no magic, and she seemed to enjoy telling Regina what to do, so this may be a good way to pass the time. 

For a moment, it appeared Mal was going to refuse; but then she had looked at the mountain, measuring the lifeless desert that stretched between them, and sighed. "You're right. You should know how to teleport."

And Regina realised that her previous fear had only just scratched the surface. 

She set herself to learning the transport spell with a zeal that surprised Mal. By mid-morning, Regina was able to blip 5 metres in any direction. After an initial scare when she had re-appeared up to her knees in sand, her aim was getting much better. Mal had raged for five minutes straight. She had sat on the boulder, hands clenched, one fist beating against the other in fury, and shouted about how lucky Regina was that she had materialised in loose, shifting sand, and not a tree or an outcrop of rock, because she'd have ended up cut off at the knees, and next time it could be her head she lost. Regina had been more worried about Mal's anger tiring her out and making her sicker, which only made Mal even angrier. She had only stopped shouting when she noticed Regina fighting back tears. Then her voice had cut off abruptly, mid-rant, and she had held out a hand and pulled Regina down next to her, sitting in silence while she forced her breathing to calm.

"I am not going to die," she said finally. It sounded like an instruction; whether to herself or to the fates, who always seemed to be listening, even Mal couldn't be sure. But she said it with enough conviction that some of the urgency went out of Regina, and she was able to focus better on her lessons. She didn't make the mistake of materialising in the middle of anything again. 

By the time the sun had risen directly overhead, and even the patient Rocinante was blowing and pawing at the ground in boredom, Regina was able to do a line-of-sight 'port to a distant tree and back. It was good enough for Mal; she decided that she was ready to try again, knowing that even if the next transport killed her, Regina had enough skill to hop across the desert in a series of 'ports. She didn't mention this reasoning to Regina, saying instead that she was tired of looking at the same expanse of dry ground, and she was ready for a change of scenery.

They debated the wisdom of having Mal take Regina's place in the saddle, but decided it would be best if Mal were on her own feet. Less of a distance to fall. 

Regina could see the strain Mal was under as she called up her power. She had to cling to the saddle for support, holding herself upright more by sheer determination than the strength of her own body; her nose started bleeding before she'd drawn much power to her, and sweat was pouring down her face. Regina leaned forward and clasped her hand over Mal's where it clutched white-knuckled at the saddle horn. Then came the familiar shake of Mal's teleport spell, but this time it was far worse than before, and went on for much longer. Regina was sliding off the saddle the moment they had fully materialised. Even so, she wasn't quick enough to catch Mal as she collapsed to her knees and slumped sideways onto the ground. By the time Regina did reach her, she was convulsing, her eyes flickering rapidly under closed lids, her body trembling and jerking like a fish suddenly finding itself on dry land. Regina held Mal as her body shuddered; for a few terrifying seconds, she stopped breathing and Regina could no longer feel her heart beat. But then Mal had gasped, drawing painful gulps of air into her lungs. She coughed and retched in Regina's arms, and the blood flowed freely from her nose, a thin bright red streak. But she was alive, and after a few minutes of confusion, when she had spoken in a language Regina did not recognise, she finally returned to her senses. She lay still in Regina's arms for a long while, her breathing shallow and ragged as though each breath cost her in energy and pain. But her eyes were clear and aware.

An hour passed, perhaps more, before Mal risked standing. She swayed, but she managed to stay on her feet. She looked at their surroundings and sighed. "Still not close enough."

They were at the foothills of the mountain. Regina couldn't quite fathom the distance they had traversed. Mal had pushed herself far too hard in Regina's opinion, and she told her so.

"That just means there'll be less for me to do tomorrow," Mal countered. Neither of them commented on the assumption that they would have to make camp for the day again; that Mal was well aware how weak she was.

The terrain on which they found themselves had changed from the dry lands they had left behind. There was snow on the ground here, but not so thick that it prevented Regina from finding a sheltered stretch where they could pass the day. The hillside was covered with thickly growing shrubs, the thin grey branches sporting fleshy wedge-shaped leaves; a narrow icy-cold rivulet flowed not too far away. Rocinante greatly enjoyed stripping the leaves from the shrubs, and browsed contentedly while Regina took care of Mal. She lost herself again in the work of making camp, filling the waterskin and gathering enough dry branches to make a fire. She was grateful that Rocinante had found grazing, because she had been worried about their food and water supplies running low. But now that she had access to water again, she was able to warm a bowlful to make a slurry of oats and finely chopped pieces of dried fruit for Mal to eat. The fact that Mal did not turn up her nose at this meal added yet another layer of worry to the heavy concern Regina already felt. But at least Mal did eat, and the food seemed to help return some colour to her pallid skin, and she sat up straighter and began to take more interest in their surroundings.

Mal watched as Regina completed the preparations for their camp. She cleared a section of ground for them to sleep on and laid out the one blanket she had allowed them to bring as a shield against the cold. Rocinante saw the benefit of her attention too. Even though they hadn't ridden him much at all, Regina still brushed him and checked him thoroughly for any sign of injury or damage. He relished the attention, whinnying softly and nudging at her whenever she scratched him between his ears. She put a handful of dried meat in bowls of water and sent her warming magic through them; thickened with some more oats, it would make the most basic of soups for their evening meal. When everything had finally been taken care of to her satisfaction, Regina forced herself to relax, sitting close to Mal and trying to not look like she was watching her closely for any sign of another collapse.

"I must really look a sight," Mal said drolly. "You're flitting around like a fly in a storm."

"You stopped breathing," Regina said accusingly. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry Regina. I had to _try_ to get us past this mountain. I'm not sure I can... Well. That's unimportant. Do you see that peak?" She pointed upwards, "The one that looks like a jagged dogs' tooth?"

Regina nodded.

"My lair is not more than sixty miles on the other side of that peak. If I can't - if we get separated for some reason, that's the direction you go in."

Regina started to protest, but Mal cut her off. "Regina, I have no intention of dying, I assure you. But if you need to go on without me, that is the direction in which you will go."

"I will never forgive you if you die," Regina warned.

Mal smiled, the first genuinely warm smile Regina had received from her since they had fled the forest. "I would much prefer you took all that fury and turned it against Stefan and his trailing dog."

She made Regina practice teleporting until the sun went down. It didn't matter that Mal could barely keep her eyes open, or that she'd lose focus and her voice would trail off, sometimes mid-sentence, or that there were moments when she'd lapse into a strange language where her voice would get guttural and hiss between her teeth. She'd always manage to force herself back, and to stay aware enough to keep Regina on task.

When Regina could safely teleport to and from a place that was not in her direct line of sight, Mal finally allowed them both to relax. Regina huddled down next to her, exhausted. But she said, "Can you teach me how to take someone with me?"

Mal's smile was strained. "I could. But not today."

Regina took Mal's hand in hers. "Tomorrow, then?"

Mal shook her head. "Tomorrow, I get us home."

Regina heard the doubt shading the conviction in her voice. If tomorrow's 'port wasn't successful, Mal didn't have the strength in her for another spell; they both knew this. Regina watched Rocinante grazing contentedly and said with quiet determination. "I won't leave you. I hope you know that."

"You'll go if I tell you to," Mal growled.

"I'd like to see you make me." Regina's voice was teasing, which took away none of the truth behind what she was saying. There was no argument Mal could proffer that would budge her, and not enough power left in her magic to force Regina away.

There was a long silence, as the sunlight dimmed and the fire glowed brighter in the dusk. Regina absentmindedly stroked Mal's hand; feeling how cold it was, she moved to add more fuel to the fire, stoking it to a warming blaze. 

"Will you go, if I  _ask_  you to?" Mal said quietly.

Regina looked back at her, startled. "Don't," she whispered. "Please don't. I can't - you can't ask me that."

"But, if I do ask -"

"No. Not even then, Mal."

"Foolish. Foolish." Mal muttered. "I would. I'd go. I wouldn't think twice." 

Regina let that go unchallenged. Mal didn't need her to point out what a poor liar she was. She settled next to Mal again, reclaiming her hold on her hand - which she noted was still cold, and said gently "We started this together. We'll finish it together. Whatever comes."

Mal sighed, defeated. She muttered something about the fates, but too low for Regina to hear clearly. Then she slipped into silence again, her head drooping onto Regina's shoulder. Regina realised Mal was cold all over, not just her hands. She forced her to stand, half dragging her to where she had laid out the blanket on the ground. She helped Mal lie down, covering her with both their cloaks, and then crawling under the covers with her. She lay against Mal's back and wrapped her arms around her body, unable to stop a shiver when the length of their bodies were pressed together. Mal was so cold, her movements sluggish and her voice slurred when she said Regina's name. She only said her name once, breathing it out into the night, and then she seemed to slip into sleep; or something heavier than sleep, because the breath barely moved in her chest, and she didn't stir when Regina brushed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Mal's coldness scared Regina. Even cocooned in their cloaks, even with Regina wrapped around her, even so close to the fire they were virtually in the embers, Mal's body still radiated cold. Regina thought back to her first lessons in magic, and filled her body with warmth; she poured this warmth into Mal, then repeated the process again and again, until she felt light headed with the draw and flow of power. 

Finally, Mal stirred. She clasped Regina's hands where they rested against Mal's chest. "Enough,  _Llamita,"_ she whispered. "Enough.

She went silent again, but Regina was less concerned. Mal's body was warm in her arms and her breathing had the healthy, even rhythm of sleep. When Regina kissed her forehead, Mal turned her head towards her and murmured wordlessly under her breath. Comforted by these signs of life and normalcy, Regina allowed herself to sleep. 

 

Mal was up with the sun. Her fumbling movements as she tried to disentangle herself woke Regina. She tightened her hold and drew Mal back to her. "You should rest more," Regina whispered into her ear.

Mal allowed herself a moment to savour the comfort of being held, to let Regina's voice, warm and roughened with sleep, weave its customary spell. But her body was sending her urgent messages. There was pain yes, but pain was commonplace. There were heavier demands being made on her; Rumplestiltskin's spell still crawled through her, draining her power and making it more and more difficult for her to form and cast the spells she needed to. The dragon was beyond her now, she could not draw out even a hint of that menace; no elk would run from her now. 

She knew that the more she used her magic, the stronger the binding spell would grow, crushing around her heart and cutting her off from all use of magic. Left unchallenged, with no magic to press against, Rumple's spell would eventually fade and die. But she had to use so much magic in the last few days that his spell was flourishing, like an overfed tick it grew fat and bloated inside her. 

Her body was screaming at her to fight back. But to fight back would require her to go into a death-like state, so that her mind and body could focus on repelling the invading spell. She had felt herself start to slip into that trance last night, pulling her in no matter how hard she had resisted. Only Regina's warmth had brought her back, but Mal was unsure how much longer even that would keep her awake. The healing coma would leave her defenceless against any outside attack, and because Regina was too stubborn to leave Mal to save herself, it would leave Regina without protection too. And for all Mal reminded herself that Regina was the stronger of the two of them right now, she rebelled to the very core against the idea of Regina having to face whatever was to come alone on this undefended hillside. She had to get them to the lair. And she had to do it before the healing coma claimed her. 

So she groaned and forced herself to roll away from Regina. One last push. One last 'port. Not even that long a distance. And then, when Regina was safe inside the lair, she'd allow herself to heal.

By the time Regina had broken camp, packed their belongings away, and doused the fire, Mal had gathered enough power to attempt the final 'port. Neither of them sat astride Rocinante, Regina choosing instead to stand next to Mal, her steadying hands closed around both her elbows. Mal was grateful for the support as her body trembled and shook with the effort of using her magic against the crushing hold of the binding spell. Pain pulsed through her, radiating out from the focal point of the scar in her chest. She could feel the scar grow hot, her flesh straining around it as her chest tightened. She could taste blood in her mouth, probably as it flowed from her nose, although her teeth vibrated in agony too so perhaps she had bitten through her cheek.

But then her spell finally grew strong enough to punch through the binding spell, and they were flung towards home.

It wasn't a pleasant trip, the worst of the 'ports they had made since leaving the forest even though they covered the shortest distance. But they made it. Although, not without a cost.

As they materialised, Mal felt a tearing in her chest. The strength drained from her, and she felt herself start to crumple. Regina was there to catch her, strong and sure. Mal leaned into the smaller woman's body, unable to stop herself from needing to. Regina was swearing, awkwardly trying to curve one arm far enough around Mal so that she could press a hand to her chest.

"You're bleeding!" She sounded furious.  _Better than tears_ , Mal thought. Regina's anger was easier to accept than her sadness or fear.

"It's fine," Mal tried to reassure her. "There was just some strain. The wound's reopened, that's all."

"That's  _all?"_  Still furious. "How am I supposed to patch you up? I don't have my sewing kit!"

Through the pain and the weakness and the scourge of the spell inside her, Mal chuckled. 

"This is not funny!" Regina shouted. "I didn't think you'd be putting yourself at this much risk!"

"Regina," Mal said soothingly, though the laughter still bubbled in her voice. "We're here."

Regina looked around. "Oh."

They were standing inside a courtyard, between two high hedges that ran in parallel lines towards an ornate, though empty, fountain. The ground and shrubbery were covered in thick snow, but Regina could see the care that had gone into the layout of the gardens. The walls of the courtyard were a thick white stone, higher than any Regina had seen in her father's home. The pathway flanked by hedges swept towards a structure whose size overshadowed these walls. She could make out three round towers, two smaller and one so high it seemed to touch the clouds. The towers were attached to a building that could have encompassed her father's inner courtyards three times over. A broad staircase led up from the garden to doors wide enough to allow two carriages driving abreast to pass through. 

"Oh." Regina said again, Mal's injuries displaced from the forefront of her mind by the sheer size and scale of what she was looking at. "It's a castle."

"What did you expect?" Mal asked, glad to have diverted her attention. She started hobbling towards the door, leaving blotches of red in the snow. 

Regina took one more look around her, flipped Rocinante's reins over so they dropped to the ground, and hurried to offer Mal the support of her arm. She could see the sway in Mal's step, and her eyes had started drooping shut again.

"I was thinking...caves...of some sort."

Mal came alert enough to glare at her. "Caves?"

"You kept calling it a lair!"

"It  _is_  my lair! But there are no rules that say a lair can't be a castle."

"I apologise for not being up on all the niceties of dragon etiquette and architecture!"

Mal found the arguing helped keep her from sinking into darkness. It was strange, but when she fought with Regina she felt sharp and alive, with none of the rankling resentment she usually associated with quarrels. And it gave her something to think about besides the pain.

"Is there somewhere in this... _lair_  that would have medical supplies? Bandages? Needles?" 

"Dragon's don't have much need for needles," Mal admitted. 

They were at the stairs now, and Mal leaned more heavily on Regina with each step. She could feel the binding spell grow, feeding off her pain as much as her magic. When they reached the top of the stairs, Mal started coughing and retching. She wiped a hand across her mouth; it came away streaked with blood. 

"We have to get you inside. Now!" Regina's voice was sharp with urgency.

"I'm fine." Mal gasped. "Regina, you have to wait!" She grabbed hold of Regina's hand before she could touch the door-handle. "There are protection spells everywhere." 

Mal muttered under her breath and there was a shimmer in the air around the castle; the shimmer flowed outwards sweeping across the garden and through the walls. Thankfully, modifying a spell did not require nearly as much power as casting one. The castle and grounds would be safe for Regina now, and her horse. Mal had remembered to include Rocinante at the last minute. But nothing else could pass through the gates or breach the walls. Regina would have as much safety as Mal could offer while she healed. She had strength enough for one last little spell though. Mal held out her hand, and there was Regina's sewing kit. Regina glared at her and snatched it away.

"Inside. Now." Her tone brooked no argument.

 

Through the doors was a great hall, with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. There were arches and ornately carved columns, above were vaulted ceilings painted in luminous motifs, the floor was covered with intricate mosaics, and thick rugs and carpets, the walls hung with richly coloured tapestries, vast chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glowing with light as though the hall was in regular use. 

All of this was lost on Regina. Her concern was entirely with Mal; on helping her stumble across the huge room to a smaller side niche, where a large, overstuffed, wingback chair stood by an unlit fireplace. The chair was large enough to hold three people, and Mal sank into the cushions so that she was more lying than sitting. Regina turned to the fireplace and used her fireballs to start a roaring blaze. When she came back to Mal, her eyes were closed, but she was still awake.

"I'm going to find some water," Regina said. Mal's face was stained, and blood had soaked into her cloak where it glistened redly in the firelight.

All Mal said was "Hurry."

Regina fled, trusting her instincts to find the kitchens. There were pumps over sinks, and buckets, just like in her old home. She half filled a bucket, found what she would have to trust were clean cloths, and rushed back to the hall. Mal was still breathing evenly, and she had rearranged herself into a slightly more comfortable position, curled up in the chair.

Her eyes flickered open when Regina pulled the cloak aside and started unlacing her shirt.

"Regina, I have to tell you something."

"Not now. Let me work."

"You need to know this. I am not sure how much longer I can stay awake."

"Fine. But let me work." She cleaned away the worst of the blood and examined the wound. It had reopened, but it wasn't as deep as when she had first seen it. She threaded a needle. 

Mal hissed when the needle pierced her skin, but she forced herself to say evenly, "I will be asleep for a long time, Regina. I don't want you to worry. It's safe. I'm safe. I need to do this. To heal."

Regina glanced up into her eyes, to gauge how much of the truth Mal was telling her. 

"It's a...dragon thing," Mal continued. "Rumple's spell, it's possessing me. I have to fight it. This is the only way."

"How long?"

"I don't know. A few days."

"Won't you need food? Water?"

"You've fed me well. I will be fine."

"You'll be asleep?"

"Yes. Just asleep."

"But you  _will_  wake up?"

"Yes, Regina. And until I do, the castle is at your disposal. There should be food and drink. The protection spells will have kept everything fresh enough."

"Don't you want to be in a bed? Do you  _have_  a bed?"

Mal smiled. "I have beds. When I wake, I will give you a tour of every room in the castle. But there is no time now, and I'm not strong enough to get there either by magic or the old fashioned way." She sighed and took Regina's face between her hands. They were cold and they shook, but Regina welcomed her touch. "I am sorry, Regina. This was not how I planned to welcome you here." When she kissed her, Regina tasted the coppery tang of blood.

Mal leaned back into the cushions, her eyes fluttering shut. "Be safe, Regina. I will see you soon." 

And then she stilled, the movement of her chest slowing until Regina couldn't be sure that Mal was even breathing. But she had to trust what she had told her. Mal was sleeping; she would heal; and most importantly, she would wake again.

 

Regina spent a long time sitting on the floor besides Mal, holding her hand and watching for any sign that Mal's health was worsening. She wasn't sure what specific signs she should be looking out for, but she watched intently nonetheless. Eventually she remembered Rocinante out in the snow, and forced herself to stand and to walk away from Mal's inert form. 

Her horse was waiting patiently where she had left him, his chestnut coat the only warm spot in the tableau of cold whites and greys. Regina wrapped her arms around his neck and Rocinante lowered his head, tucking Regina in closer. It was okay for her to cry now, leaning against Rocinante's strong shoulder, the familiar smell and feel of him all around her. He had been her strength and refuge for years now, but Regina had never needed his companionship more than she did at this moment. 

Theirs was an uncomplicated relationship; Rocinante loved and trusted Regina and would follow uncomplainingly wherever she led him, even into the mouth of a dragon's lair. And Regina loved Rocinante, fiercely and without question. It was so different than her relationship with Mal. That was all questions. Although, under all the doubts and debate that Mal caused in her, there ran a core of rigid truth. As she thought about this, about the certainty that Mal cared as much, if not more, for Regina's welfare as she did for her own, her sobbing slowed. She could hear Mal's voice, teasing but concerned,  _you promised me no more tears._ Regina was fairly sure that Mal was doomed to disappointment on that front, particularly if she kept treating her own health and safety so cavalierly. But that would be something they could talk about when Mal woke. For now, she had Rocinante to worry about.

They went in search of stabling, leaving the snowy garden through a heavy gateway in the white wall that swung open as Regina approached. The outer courtyard was a flat expanse of ground, ringed by an even higher, thicker wall of grey stone. There was a frozen pond at one end, and a two-storey gatehouse at the other, standing at the head of what looked to be a narrow passageway through the wall. From what Regina could see, the ground sloped downwards from the gatehouse, and she assumed Mal's castle stood at the top of a hill, though the high walls prevented her from seeing the land beyond. Along the inner side of the courtyard ran a long structure that contained stalls and a series of smaller pens. There were no animals housed there though. The floors were clean stone, the hooks and racks and other implements gleamed on the walls. The troughs were empty of hay or water. The floors of the stalls were loose-packed sand covered in dry rushes. Nothing in the stables looked like it had ever been used, or that a living creature had ever walked or eaten or slept here.

Even though the building was empty, the stalls were warm and snug, the walls somehow turning the cold away. A pump against the wall produced clear water and Rocinante backed happily into a stall, and munched at the grain Regina unpacked from the saddlebags. She brushed him down and gave him one last hug, then returned to the castle in search of a meal for herself. She carried the saddlebags back with her, leaving them by the fireplace where Mal lay before returning to the kitchen. Mal had been correct about finding fresh food, although there was more meat and fruit than vegetables on offer. The wheels of cheese and round loaves of bread were a particularly happy find. Grimauld's store had never had such luxuries on offer, and cheese making was not one of Regina's skills, even if she'd had access to milk in the forest. 

She carried her meal back to the fireplace, having decided to make that her campsite. She had found several smaller rooms off the main hall, but these were too far away from Mal; she wanted to be close enough to see if there was a change in her condition. So she hauled thick rugs and cushions from the rooms over to the fireplace and created a small nest for herself - a lair within the lair.

As she ate, she made plans. Her primary worry, foremost after the ever-present concern of Mal, was Rocinante. She would run out of food for him soon. And though she had found oats and other grains in the kitchen, she knew she needed to find fodder for him. She decided that in the morning she'd ride him out to see if they could find any more of the bushes he had enjoyed so much. They couldn't be gone too long though; she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mal alone. But Rocinante needed a run, and when Regina found herself talking aloud in the echoing silence, she knew that she needed some time outside of this room as well. 

To help the time pass, she took one of Mal's books from the saddlebags; she chose the history that Mal had been reading, not able to face stories of magic and dragons just now. Mal had been careful with the book, and there was no way of telling which particular section she had been reading, so Regina thumbed through the pages until a name leaped out at her. King Stefan. 

The chapters dedicated to him covered the time when he was a mere princeling who had just begun the march that led him to the throne. They were written in a flamboyant style and told of his great handsomeness, and his prowess in battle. Long passages were dedicated to how well he strategised and the great pains he took to ensure quick, painless victories. There were reports that claimed the conquered lands welcomed him and hailed him as liberator. Every word she read made Regina angrier and angrier. If Mal's story was anything to go by, this history was a greater work of fiction than anything she had read in the other book. She contemplated feeding the book to the fire, but this was Mal's gift. If she hadn't destroyed it, perhaps she had found some merit to it that Regina could not see. 

Still grouchy and irritable, she kissed Mal's forehead, pressing her warm lips to cold skin; she tried to make the still body as comfortable as possible, rearranging her limbs and tucking her in under a blanket. She wished she could curl up next to her, but the seat was too narrow, and she didn't want to risk dislodging Mal from her healing sleep. So instead she dragged her rugs and cushions over so she could lie on the floor by the chair, from where she could reach up and touch Mal's cold hand from time to time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively long update for me, because I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next. :( 
> 
> I'm not abandoning this story though! Just worried that life stuff will get in the way of posting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina's all alone in the lair. A girl's got to do something to pass the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe useful for me to say upfront that this section has a lot of scene-setting, which will come into play later. So, bear with me please?

The morning came, cold and grey as the day before. Regina breakfasted by the sleeping Mal, and read aloud to her from the storybook, a jovial tale about talking frogs and kind-hearted princesses. Regina could imagine Mal's eyebrow arching sardonically at this tale, and she could hear her running commentary about foolish princesses who would believe anything, and how tasty frogs’ legs were. It was difficult for Regina to leave her, but she forced herself away.

Rocinante welcomed her with glad whinnying that made her consider the wisdom of housing him in the great hall, so he wouldn't be so lonely. But she decided that Mal may not be so glad to have her home, with its thick carpets and tasty looking tapestries, turned into a stable. "I'm sorry boy," she whispered as she groomed him. "I know she'd forgive me, eventually. But best not to test the dragon too much, okay?"

She led him to the massive gates that barred the entry to the narrow passageway. The gates to her father's keep had operated on a simple pulley system that needed two strong men to operate. But Mal's castle gate swung open as she approached. On the other side of the walls was a gently sloping land. The castle stood at the highest point, looking down over wide stretches of snow-covered ground. In the distance was a thick forest, which grew back to the foothills of the dogs-tooth mountain. A narrow path ran down from the castle and into the forest. She could just make out thin trails of smoke rising through the trees. She mounted Rocinante and urged him forwards towards that sign of life.

They went slowly, unsure of the path's safety. But when they entered the forest, the way was easier to make out, unobscured by the amount of snow that had fallen on uncovered ground. Regina was keeping an eye out for forage, so when they came across a small clearing, where the grey bushes grew thickly along the edges, she stopped and dismounted to allow Rocinante to supplement his breakfast of oats. She left him grazing and wandered on her own for a short distance through the trees. She was careful to go slowly and pay attention to her surroundings, and so when the ground dropped sharply away at a cliff's edge, she did not fall. She could hear running water, so she took firm hold of a sturdy branch and leaned over the edge to see how far down the river was. An outthrust ledge of rock obscured her view, about six feet down. She would have thought nothing further of it, and gone on her way, but a noise stopped her. A faint sound. A voice calling thinly. A woman's voice saying, "Help. Please. Help me."

She looked back over the edge. 

What she had taken for a protrusion of stone on the ledge, she now realised was a body.

"Are you all right?" Stupid question, but it was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"I fell. Broke my leg. Can't stand."

"Ok. Hold on, I'll get you up!"

"Water. Do you have water?"

"Yes. Hold on." She dashed back to Rocinante and fetched her waterskin. She had no rope though, so she took off her cloak and used that instead, tying the skin to one corner and dangling it over the edge until the woman could reach it. While the woman drank, Regina led Rocinante closer to the cliff's edge, and unbuckled his reins. They were sufficiently long so that, even if she passed them around a tree, they would dangle low enough for the woman to reach. The reins were made of tough, supple leather; she hoped they'd be strong enough to take the woman's weight. 

She lay on her stomach on the edge and called out. "Hello again. I'm Regina."

"Thank you, Regina." the woman called out, her voice stronger after having drunk the water. "I am Alys."

"Okay Alys, we're going to get you up." Regina replied, and outlined her plan to use the reins. 

They tried, but it didn't work. Alys was too weak to stand, and could not help with pulling herself up. She had lain on that ledge for three nights now, and she was weak from the cold and pain. 

Regina passed her down the bread and cheese she had packed, and they talked about what could be done. Alys lived in a village several miles into the forest. She explained the way to Regina, and they agreed that Regina would ride there and come back with help. 

Regina found the place easily enough, but she arrived into the middle of a tumult. The village was a small collection of rough houses, built in a large clearing in the forest. About fifty men and women were gathered in the middle of an open patch of ground, shouting and fighting each other. No weapons had yet been drawn, but as Regina arrived, the fight was on the verge of developing into something deadlier. 

Regina had a loud voice when she needed it, thanks to the training of all the singing lessons her mother had insisted she take. 

"Stop!" Her voice carried such authority that the fight actually did stop, the men and women turning to look at the unlikely figure who had shouted at them. She could have been a wild woman come right out of a story, with dark untamed hair, mounted on a blowing, stamping horse, dressed like a hunter. "Who here is husband to Goodwife Alys?"

A man stepped forward. His knuckles were bloodied. He had been one of the fiercest fighters.

"That'd be me. I'm Haymo. Have you news of my Alys?"

"Yes. She's fallen down a cliff. She's hurt, but alive."

"Oh, fates be praised! We thought her lost!"

"You thought we'd taken her!" snarled a man.

Haymo turned to snarl back, and Regina shouted, exasperated "Why are you wasting time arguing? Your wife needs help. Now!"

Sheepishly, the men turned back from their confrontation. Under Regina's impatient direction, they formed up a rescue party. No one else had a horse, or even a donkey, so Regina rode back to Alys with blankets and a skin of ale to warm her, leaving the rescue party to follow on foot.

While they waited, Regina told her about the fight she had interrupted. The ale loosened Alys's tongue a little, and she was free with her words.

"That'd be the other village - Terric's lot. Can't trust them further than you could throw them. They're always trying to steal our harvest and poach our sheep."

"Why would your people think Terric's people captured you?"

"They'd want to trade, wouldn't they? For food or ale. They've had a hard winter. The river flooded and wiped out their fields."

"Didn't you have enough to share?"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to share with them! They were the same when our harvests failed three years ago. We spent that winter having to raid them to stay alive."

"So, your two villages are always fighting each other?"

"Yes. Except when the Blacwins or Saers try to take something from us. And when the dragon comes, well, we all band up together then."

"The dragon?"

"Yes. These lands - they're ruled over by a dragon. Well, when I say ruled, I mean terrorised. Never can tell when Maleficent will come swooping down and gobble you up."

"You've seen her? Maleficent, you've seen her eat someone?"

"Yes...well, my grandmother has. She'd tell us of a night. We stayed well away from that castle I'll tell you!"

"I'm sure you did." Regina couldn't keep the anger from her voice, and even in her inebriated state, Alys noticed.

"You're not from around here, are you lass?"

"No. I'm new to the area."

"You have somewhere to stay? You're welcome to stop with us. Stay away from Terric's village. You can't trust them."

"I'm staying at the castle." Regina said shortly.

"With the horrible dragon?" Alys shrieked.

"No. With my friend."

"Oh lass, it's not safe for you up there. Come away. Stay with us. Me and Haymo will look after you."

Regina sighed. As displeased as she was with the woman's stories about Mal, she realised her heart was in the right place. 

"I'm fine up at the castle. But thank you. Perhaps I can visit you and your friends though? I would like to learn more about this place."

"You'll always be welcome with us." Alys promised.

 

 

Regina waited until Alys's people reached them. She joined in the effort to draw Alys safely up the cliff. She helped check and set Alys's leg. She drank some ale with the men and shared a meal of coarse bread and cold boiled mutton. She told them something of herself, but when everyone expressed horror at the idea of her staying in the dragon's lair, she grew silent. She did not know how she could make them see that Mal was not the swooping death of their grandmothers' tales. Yes, Mal was mysterious and a little terrifying sometimes, but she could also be gentle and patient; Regina could not imagine ever feeling anything but safe in Mal's presence. Frustrated perhaps, but never in danger.

She left the villagers with promises to return, and rode back to the castle. She had been gone far longer than she had intended, and she was anxious to see if Mal was all right. 

The great hall was still when she walked in, her steps echoing hollowly when she walked across uncovered floor. Mal lay where she had left her, having seemingly not moved at all. Regina felt a tightness in her chest as she looked down at the sleeping woman, a burn of anxiety that gripped her and made the breath catch in her throat. She did not know if she should be concerned that Mal lay so motionless. She did not know what signs to look out for to tell her that Mal may be suffering, or that her condition may be worsening, or that she may be losing the battle against Rumplestiltskin's spell. What really shook her though was that, under the anxiety, she tasted anger - an anger directed at Mal, for leaving her to face this on her own. 

Regina sunk to the ground, her back resting against the chair, buried her face in her hands and failed to fight back a hot wash of tears. She was not crying for sadness, but out of an impotent fury. For nearly an entire year she had lived on her own, caring for no one but Rocinante, and carving a life for herself out of nothing. And then this woman had swept into that life, and in a few short weeks she had turned everything upside down. Mal made her aware how much there was to the world, how many things Regina had yet to discover and experience. Everything Mal had said and done had been a promise to share these discoveries with Regina. And now she was lying here, cold and possibly dying, and Regina was furious because she was realising that she did not know how to be alone anymore. Or, even worse, because she could always teach herself how again - she did not _want_  to be alone anymore. And she was so furious, but it wasn't fair to be furious with Mal, because she was hurt and possibly dying, and all Regina could think of to do was scream. 

Screaming seemed to help. It filled the emptiness of the room and eased the tightness in her chest. 

 _Find the balance,_ she reminded herself.  _It is okay to feel anger, but do not *act* out of anger._

Balance meant finding something to do until Mal woke. Something other than sitting and watching and waiting. Because Mal had promised she would wake. And Mal had not yet broken a promise. And if she _did_  eventually break this promise, _then_ Regina could be angry with her and rail and shout and break things. But not until then.

So she got up, kissed chilled lips, and went in search of meaningful distraction. First, a thorough exploration of the kitchens so she knew exactly what resources were available to her. Then she started looking into the rooms that surrounded the great hall. Regina gave up that plan after the fifth room in which she found nothing but sumptuous decorations and paintings and statues and tapestries. All the rooms were blurring into one another; all the wonders they contained were nothing but lifeless meaningless things that left Regina feeling small and cold.

She returned to her spot by Mal and practiced her magic until she was able to recreate the spell that captured fire in glass. That gave her a sense of accomplishment at least, that her day was not a complete waste. She cleared up all the broken glass from failed spells, brought her evening meal back to the fire, and read aloud to Mal until she fell asleep, still sitting propped up against the chair.

In the morning she rode back to the village and had a long, heated, discussion with Haymo and Alys. 

 

 

_She floated somewhere between dreaming and death. She could feel the spell the snivelling little man had cast crawling over and through her. It dragged her deeper and deeper into darkness. She could try to strain against the pull. But she was so tired. It was easier to just go, to sink rather than to fight. She had left it too late. She should not have expended all that energy, left herself so open to attack. The spell had fed and grown stronger, sent its roots deep and taken hold in places she could not reach to dislodge it. It was easier to let go. Her body would lie in her lair, protected even past death. So even in death, she would deny them victory. There was no pleasure in that thought._

_She was so tired._

_The darkness wreathed around her, welcoming her; the cold brought ease to pain._

_She saw a spark in the darkness, blinding even though it was so small. It was the lightest brush of heat. The quietest of sounds. A familiarity that she had almost forgotten, almost lost. The sound was a voice, and the voice was talking about ... frogs? Surely not. No, it was. Talking frogs. And princesses. All she knew about frogs was that they tasted good when cooked right. She wanted to smile but she was so tired._

_The light and warmth stayed with her though. Tiny anchors in the dark. Tiny signposts showing her the way._

_The light faded. The cold returned. She floated again in darkness. She sought for the light, pushing back against the darkness, finding desperation-fuelled strength. The spell fought back. She was so tired. And it was so dark. And she was so alone._

_The light returned. But it was different now. Muted and dulled. Not so familiar. The voice reeked of despair._

_She felt something unfurl within her. Something with teeth. Something angry. Something that wanted to rip and tear and *devour*. The dragon woke and started to hunt._

 

The only place large enough for all of them to meet was the open space in the centre of the village. It was muddy and cold, but that meant that people were less likely to argue so they could get back indoors and have a warming drink. Haymo had built a sort of platform at one end, because after the first meeting, Regina had felt a bit ridiculous sitting astride Rocinante while talking, but she needed the height advantage. The platform had been a good compromise. 

She had made a very impassioned speech that first day, filled with technical details and backed up by anecdotal evidence. But where she had won them over had been sitting with a large mug of ale before her, talking to the men and women in twos and threes. Her earnestness could not be denied. One or two of the men had laughed and sneered. Haymo had punched one in the nose, leaving him spluttering blood all over the floor. Another had had a meaningful conversation with Alys over a meal. By the end of the day, by the time Regina had returned with the small troupe that had taken her on a recce, Haymo's entire village was on board with the plan. Terric's people had sent six representatives. They were looking thoughtful when they returned to their homes.

The next morning, when Regina had come back with rolls of paper she had spent half the evening drawing on, Terric himself had come to Haymo's village.

"We are willing to listen," was all he said.

Regina spent two hours with him. After the first twenty minutes, he had lots of questions. He scoffed at first, but then grew thoughtful when she had a response for everything he asked.

"You shall see what we are up against," he said finally.

Even this was a victory, that Terric was inviting her to his village.

Terric's village was situated on a flat level of land. The river that flowed in the not-so-distance had overflowed its banks before winter had frozen everything. The flat land had turned into a small, shallow, sea. The people had lost their homes, lost everything - their crops drowned, half their animals could not be saved before the floodwaters took them. By the time the temperatures had dropped, there had still been a foot of water running through the village. That floodwater had frozen into a sheet of ice. Terric knew his people would never live in their homes again. Shelter and food had become their biggest concern. They had taken to raiding the other villages for food and fuel, which they brought back to the little village of tents they had made in the forest. They moved this village on a regular basis, so that the other villagers could not hunt them.

Regina knew if such a disaster had struck a small village in her father's lands, there would have been some sort of system in place to ensure that no one starved or froze to death. Other villages may complain quietly, but they would have come together to offer aid and assistance. But here, there was no one to direct and oversee such an effort. Mal's territory was a wilderness, a no-man's land of sorts. The villages were all separate entities, each group caring only for their own people. Each village had a headman who ran things for that group of people. But none of them trusted the others. And they spent all their time plotting and scheming against each other. The only thing that united them was their fear and hatred of Maleficent. 

Until now. Now they had Regina. She forced them to consider that they were stronger working together. To help, she emptied out half of Mal's kitchens, carrying the provisions out a few bags and crates at a time. At first the people had refused, terrified of what Maleficent would do when she found out they were stealing from her. But then hunger had got the better of wisdom, and they accepted the gift Regina was giving them.

The biggest part of her plan however was to build a dam. Higher up along the river course, where it cut through a gulley that widened into an empty valley. It was the perfect spot to put a dam that would allow them to control the level of water and prevent any future flooding. The actual construction would have to wait until spring, but they could make plans now. Until spring came, Terric's people were billeted with Haymo's village, and they would share provisions and divide the labour between them. Haymo would continue running the village, while Terric - who had a better sense of the river - would help Regina oversee the building of the dam.

What she envisaged was an earthen construction, nothing like the big stone dam her father's headman had designed. Regina had spent many instructive weeks with the old man when the dam was first being built. She had been eager to watch the stone walls rise high, and she had been fascinated by all the talk of water flow and the nature of materials required and how much manpower was needed. Her mother could not understand her interest, and had railed at Regina every night she had come home covered in mud with scratches on her hands from hauling rocks. Regina had been fourteen, and the only thing she had wanted to do in all the world was to make things with her hands.

When her daughter would not stop going to the dam construction site, Cora had the old headman whipped. One of his men had told Regina what had happened. He had been angry and didn't care how much he hurt her. He blamed her for what had happened. "If you just did as you were told!" he'd shouted. Regina had run back home, too horrified to cry. That was when she took up hunting. Her father loved the hunt too much to ever allow Cora to whip his men. And she still got to do things with her hands, and she was starting to love riding, and she would never have to think about an old man lying bloodied and torn in the dirt.

Between the two villages, Regina found enough men who understood the river flow and knew how to build structures that would stand strong. As news of Regina spread, Saer's village sent an envoy to ask if she had a plan to help them with their problem, which would become an issue in summer. Their village was surrounded by swamplands, and in the summer the mosquitoes and other biting insects plagued them, causing sickness and bringing death to their children and older people. Now Regina had to think about how to drain a swampland. It was a question she had never faced before, and it meant that she had to find people who understood the problem better than she did. She started asking for envoys to be sent to other villages, some of them two or three day's ride distant. The villages' few horses and riders were kept hard at work.

It was the busiest week and a half Regina could remember. She knew that she was lucky to get this much support so quickly. The villages were facing so many troubles that anyone who seemed to have a solution would be welcomed. It hadn't been that difficult to win them over, to convince them of the viability of her plans. 

All the planning and meetings and arguing helped keep her mind off Mal. She'd still spend mornings reading aloud to her, and she'd practice her magic in the evenings. But she'd also talk to Mal. Tell her what she planning, what the villagers had said, how cold the water in the river was, how Rocinante was thriving with all the exercise. These one-sided conversations helped most of all. She could almost convince herself that Mal was listening.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now a word about the future.
> 
> So, I have a big chunk of this story written (although we're not even close to done). However, I will have no access to a computer or the internet for the next couple of months (Not for any bad reason! It's good reasons. Just means no writing/posting for 7 weeks or so. Argh). 
> 
> I figured that I'd post what I have so far, but I will divide it up into sections, because I like how that looks. And then there will be no more updates until I get back to the land of technology, sometime in August.
> 
> There may be a few updates between today and tomorrow, as I'm still messing about with edits and such. But I've got one section ready to go, so I'm just going to go ahead and post because I have the self-control of a very small child sometimes.
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading, and who is willing to put up with the hiatus. Believe me, I did try to get it all done before I had to take a break, but this story keeps growing when I'm not looking!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting reacquainted, meeting the neighbours, and Regina is not entirely pleased with her new bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the section where I am fairly sure my poor beta reader wanted to throw something at my head. She thinks I torment Regina far too much. Sorry Oparu.

She was late back tonight. The sun had set, and if she hadn't been able to conjure up a glass of light, her journey would have been too treacherous to risk. She stabled Rocinante and made her way to the great hall, eager to see Mal. 

The chair was empty.

Panic flared in her. There had been no sign of forced entry, no prints in the snow; the gates had stood firm until she had returned. She spun around, ready to dash for the door and the stables, even though she hadn't even started to consider what to do beyond that.

She almost ran directly into Mal.

She stood there in the soft light of the chandeliers, dressed, as she had been when Regina first met her, in an ornate dress made of shiny black fabric. Her head was tilted to one side, and she was staring at Regina as though she were a mouse that had just been found in a trap.

"Where have you been?"

Her voice was different. More raw, more guttural, colder somehow. She looked different too. Bigger, like she was taking up more space. Her hair was sleek, shining like a sheet of gold. She stood differently. She moved differently when she stalked towards Regina.

"M..Mal?" Regina found herself backing away. There was a threat in this woman that she had never detected in Mal.

"I asked you where you've been."

"Out." Regina was casting around - for what she didn't know, either a weapon or a place to hide probably.

Mal actually growled at her response. This was a sound that a hunting animal made.

"I would like a little more information than that."

"Out. In the forest. To the villages."

"You left the lair?" She had at least stopped stalking forward, but the sense of danger barely held in check still radiated off her.

"I had to."

" _Had_ to? What do the villages possibly have that you would find so attractive?"

"Why are you so angry?"

"You were _safe_ here! You have no protection out there!"

"Safe?" Regina spat. "I was losing my mind!"

That seemed to rock Mal back.

"I like stagnating as much as you do!" Regina shouted, giving voice to her anger. "You _left_ me! For nearly two _weeks!_ You don't get to tell me-"

Mal growled again and seemed to leap across the intervening space between them. She grasped Regina's shoulders between hard fingers and snarled "I did not leave-"

She broke off, finally seeing what Regina's anger had masked. The girl was afraid.

"Regina." There was alarm in her voice now. "Don't. Please - I am not going to hurt you."

Regina pulled away, and rubbed her shoulders where Mal's fingers had dug into her. She turned from Mal, and heard the low rumble of complaint. 

"You weren't here when I woke. I couldn't sense you anywhere in the lair. I was...scared."

Regina glared at her. "That is no reason to be so...so..."

"Dragon-like?" Mal's lip curled in a sardonic smile. She reached for Regina again, then thought better of it, and pulled her hands back. "I am hungry."

"Oh." Regina's eyes widened. "Of course. I'm sorry." That made Mal's lips twitch into the hint of a smile. "I have a fish stew in the kitchen."

And there was the familiar smile that Regina loved so much, the warm spreading one that crinkled the corner of Mal's eyes.

"I don't think fish stew will do."

"Oh. I could-"

"Regina, I am a dragon who hasn't eaten in over a week. I need more than stew." Mal raked her eyes over Regina, making her think of all the cautionary tales she'd been told, about how Maleficent gobbled up people without warning. "I am going hunting. Before I say or do something else I regret."

She started towards the door and Regina trailed after her. "It's late. You won't be able to see anything!"

But Mal was through the doors now, and Regina felt a rush of magic, recognised the sense of dread that followed, and then she was looking up at a huge purple dragon. This was the first time Regina had seen Maleficent in all her power, not hobbled by pain or the grip of Rumple's spell. She reared up on her hind legs and beat the air with her outstretched wings. She raised her head to the dark skies and roared. 

Looking up at the dragon, Regina noticed the jagged scar that ran down the scales on her chest. It looked like a larger version of the scar on Mal's chest. And that is when it truly settled into Regina's mind that this magnificent, terrifying, creature was not just a killing force of nature. This was Mal. This was the woman she had saved and nursed and cared for, the woman who had cared for her in return. There was nothing to fear here. When Mal flung herself into the sky, Regina watched her go with eyes shining in delight.

 

 

Regina was in the kitchen. She could sense it as soon as she landed in the courtyard, Regina's presence shining in her mind as soon as she looked for her. 

Mal had enjoyed her hunt; she had gloried in the freedom of flight, her heart finally able to beat and thrum with power with no crush of Rumplestiltskin's spell. She had soared through the inky night sky, rolling and gliding until her hunger sent her seeking prey. The dark held no secrets for dragon eyes, and she found a herd of deer, huddling together for warmth. They tried to flee, but they could not outrun the powerful beat of her wings. It was the work of minutes to clutch a deer in her claws and rip it's throat out as she hauled it into the air. The salty tang of blood filled her mouth and she roared her satisfaction. She could taste the bitter edge of fear in the flesh she devoured. It was a familiar flavour - all her prey died in terror. It didn't take her long to consume one deer; it was more thick fur and bone then meat. She went hunting again, easily following the herd to where it had fled, picking off a second animal, and wolfing it down even as the survivors screamed and ran.

With her hunger satiated, Mal's thoughts had turned to the woman in her lair. Her belly was full, her body was free of pain, her mind clear, and Mal wanted to see Regina. Whether dragon or human, she felt the sting of guilt for having scared her. So she abandoned the sky, and returned to the ground.

Mal transformed into human form and entered her lair. She swept through the empty rooms until she came to where Regina was, standing over a stove, stirring something in a pot. The kitchen table had a single plate and spoon laid out, a heel of bread and a small wedge of cheese set forlornly to one side.

Regina had turned as soon as Mal came into the doorway. She looked much the same as Mal remembered; her hair loose around her shoulders, eyes bright, her mouth widening into an instinctive smile; there was a smudge on her nose. Mal's eyes focused on this and she rumbled with the effort of not crossing over to Regina so she could brush the streak of dirt away. Those bright eyes looked wary now, and colour was rising to Regina's face.

"You're back."

The same husky voice. Mal's focus shifted from Regina's nose to her mouth. The smile faltered, and Mal dragged her gaze back to brown eyes. Regina was still speaking.

"Are you okay?" She waved vaguely at Mal's chest. "The spell...?" Her voice trailed off leaving the question unasked.

Oh. Yes of course. She didn't know. "I am me again."

"Oh. Good. Your hunt was successful?"

Why were they talking about food when there was so much else they needed to say? Mal wanted to growl in frustration, but she had already scared Regina enough tonight.

"Yes. The deer herds have grown." Oddly, now that she was thinking of food, the aroma emanating from the pot Regina had been stirring began to demand her attention. "That smells good."

Regina's smile was both pleased and shy. "Thank you."

Mal took one tentative step forward. "May I have some?"

"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "Are you still hungry? I thought-"

"It's been a while. Since we've shared a meal." And she missed it.

"Of course!" Mal wondered if Regina realised how endearing it was when her eyes lit up like that and she leapt into action, busying herself with setting out plates and bread and cheese. Mal took a seat at the table and watched Regina fuss; she could feel the room relax into a mood of familiar intimacy.

Regina put two steaming plates on the table and watched while Mal picked up a spoon and took a mouthful. Mal tasted heat and sweet and pungency all at once; she hummed with pleasure. "You found the spices."

"Yes. It's not too much, is it?" She sounded worried, concerned that the food was too hot for a dragon. Mal smiled.

"It's perfect."

With a relieved smile, Regina picked up her own spoon. They ate in silence for a few mouthfuls.

"You've been fishing?" Mal asked.

Regina shook her head. "Oh, no. It was a gift, from Terric."

"Terric?" She put her spoon down.

"Hmm." Regina kept eating. "He's a sort of ... headman of one of the villages. We are building - well, we're still in the planning stage just now."

Mal arched an eyebrow. "Building what?"

"A dam." Her voice grew more animated. "The river floods so often. The villagers lose their crops, their homes. A dam will help control floods, and give them access to water in the summer. We could stock the lake with fish - and that would mean easier access to food all year round."

Mal leaned back in her chair and watched Regina's face. She was waving her hands around in her enthusiasm, as though the dam would take shape if she got the gestures just right.

"These villagers," Mal said when she paused, "They have done you some service?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have been working very hard on this plan. Why do you feel you need to?"

"Oh. I don't - it's not an obligation, Mal. They need help, and I can do something about it. Besides. It gave me something to do." And the wariness was back in her eyes.

Mal sighed as the guilt twisted in her again. "I am sorry." She saw Regina start to shake her head in rejection of the need for an apology, so she pressed on. "I am sorry I did not prepare you better. There was no time-" She broke off. Regina deserved better than excuses and justifications. "I did not realise I would need so long – to heal. Regardless, I left you alone, and I am sorry."

Regina reached across the table and closed her hand over Mal's. "It's all right, Mal. I do understand."

Mal was grateful for the anchor of Regina's touch. She turned her hand over so she could stroke her fingers against Regina's palm. "I did not mean to frighten you. Earlier - when I woke."

"I know. I won't be scared again. Not by you."

She sounded so confident in that assertion that Mal rumbled in satisfaction. 

Regina flushed, then looked down at the food still in Mal's plate. "Have you had enough?"

She considered saying she'd eaten enough of Terric's gift, but it had been such a long time since she had sat with Regina and just talked, so she said "No," and pulled the plate back to her.

They tidied the kitchen together. It was so reminiscent of being in the hut in the forest that Mal forgot they weren't going to end up sleeping in her tiny bed of straw and wool.

"Which room have you chosen for yourself?" she asked, as they walked back towards the great hall.

"Umm. I haven't." Regina's voice was almost apologetic. "I slept next to you."

Mal recalled the pile of cushions and rugs she'd almost tripped over when she had woken from her healing sleep. Oh.

"You...read to me? Talked to me?"

Regina nodded and Mal could not stop the growl of surprise that drew from her. She grew hot with an emotion that she could not put a single name to, but it made her itch to put her hands on Regina, to press her to the wall and kiss her. But she saw the caution in Regina's face, the sudden tightness in her shoulders. She clenched her hands into fists instead.

"Allow me to choose a room for you, then," she said, proud that she had managed to keep her voice so even.

She took Regina's hand and 'ported them to another part of the lair. The room was large. There were two fireplaces; thick rugs covered the floors and tapestries on the walls; a large wardrobe dominated one wall; the window coverings were glass set in ornate wooden frames. Mal gestured at the fireplace and the fire immediately started blazing. Another gesture and she pulled the wardrobe open to reveal a rack of clothes.

"This room is in the keep," Mal was explaining. "The tallest tower. We are nearly at the top." She indicated that Regina should follow her through a curtained doorway. The room behind was already warm. A large wooden tub stood in the centre, filled with water that steamed. Thick robes hung on hooks on the wall, there were more rugs on the floor, and the air was scented with mint and lavender.

"The water stays warm through the winter." Mal said, a hint of pride in her voice.

Regina laughed. "I can see why you missed this."

Mal led Regina back into the main room. The room was so large that the bed did not seem so massive. But when Regina looked more closely at it she realised that it could probably accommodate a sleeping dragon. She had never seen a round bed before, or one piled so thickly with furs. It had an intricately carved headboard, made of a silvery wood that flared halfway up the wall like a shining fire. 

Faced with the bed, Regina suddenly looked nervous. She glanced at Mal from under lowered lashes and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Mal felt the warmth of desire again, spreading through her body until she could feel her eyes start to glow yellow. She growled and turned towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"It's cold - so don't go out there. But there is a balcony. You have a view of the mountains." She gestured upwards. "My room is the one above."

She heard the quiet "Oh," and turned back to Regina. She looked...confused. "If you need anything, I will be right there." Regina nodded, as though she wasn't really listening. Mal pointed at the door. "There are some stairs to the left that will bring you up to me. Or you could teleport. It shouldn't be hard, it is directly above you." Again, the distracted nod. Regina had started to look...disappointed? "Is the room to your satisfaction? There are others. In other parts of the keep."

Regina's eyes suddenly focused again, "No. No. This is a wonderful room. It's bigger than anything I've ever seen. It looks very comfortable."

"Good." Regina looked so small, standing by the side of that massive bed, that Mal wanted to go to her, gather her up into her arms and...she growled, angry with herself. Regina was so obviously still nervous around her that she twitched every time Mal so much as looked at her. This was not the time to be thinking about how Regina had felt in her arms as she held her in sleep. Or how she had stayed by Mal's side while she had hovered close to death, and kept Mal from sinking into darkness. 

"As strange as it may sound," Mal said hoarsely, "I am tired. I think I'll-" she waved vaguely upwards, and Regina nodded. "I'll see you in the morning?"

She 'ported away before she had to see the relief in Regina's eyes.

 

Regina threw herself onto the bed and groaned in frustration. Mal had gone and left her again, but this time was so much worse. Because Mal was awake and whole and alive, and she moved through a room like warm silk, and when she looked at Regina it was as though there were no barriers between her eyes and Regina's body.

Regina's skin was on fire with craving Mal's touch. The light brushes along her palm had left her tingling in places that were in no way connected to her hands. It was as though every part of her was suddenly linked directly to the throbbing warmth between her legs. Even the noises Mal had made - low rumbles of sound just on the threshold of hearing - felt like they were caresses across Regina's skin. Every glance Mal raked over her body made the tension worse, and left her even more aroused, until she could not bear to meet Mal's eyes.

She had been so looking forward to lying in this bed with Mal. She wanted to be held by her. To press her body against Mal's. To steal more kisses, even if it made Mal growl. _Especially_ if it made Mal growl, because that sound was leaving Regina breathless in the most pleasant way. Even thinking about it made her twitch and throb.

She groaned again and shoved her hand between her legs. Her mother would be horrified if she knew, but this would not be the first time Regina had touched herself. It would not even be the first time she had touched herself while thinking of Mal. But there was an urgency to her need for release tonight that made her movements frantic, made her twist and tug at her nipples while she thrust desperately into her own wetness. She had never needed to turn over onto her stomach before, so she could angle her fingers deeper and grind herself against the heel of her hand. It was a good thing her face was buried in the bed coverings in this position, because when she did finally crest, she was crying Mal's name.

 

 

Regina was in the kitchen preparing herself some breakfast. She had heard Mal take off from the balcony above her at dawn, so she knew she was alone in the lair. She had just started eating when she heard Mal walking along the corridor towards the kitchen. Mal stood in the doorway, her head tilted as she watched Regina.

"Good morning," Regina said politely, even though she still couldn't look Mal in the eye. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not really." She had lain awake for hours, thinking of Regina. Wanting her in bed besides her. _Wanting_ Regina. She had taken to the skies at the first sign of light, hoping to expend some of the tightness she'd built up in her futile longing. Pushing herself to soar higher and higher in the cold morning air had helped somewhat. Then she had walked into the kitchen, seen Regina, and the desire had come flooding back.

Regina had looked up at her response. Mal smiled self deprecatingly.

"I missed the sound of your breathing."

"Oh." She suddenly couldn't stop smiling. "I'm sorry."

Mal laughed and came all the way into the kitchen. "I take it you did not have the same trouble? You look well rested."

Regina shrugged noncommittally. "The bed was comfortable."

"Good." Mal reached forward and snagged a piece of dried fruit off Regina's plate. "Have you plans for today?"

Regina nodded, her eyes brightening. "Some of the men are exploring an old mine. They think they have discovered a new seam of iron. Possibly copper too. There is a smithy in Saer's village who is hungry for iron."

Mal frowned. "All this, in a week?"

"Nearly two weeks," Regina corrected huffily. Mal grinned.

"I'm going to head into the village," Regina continued. "To see if they have returned with news. And some of the women have started sharing knowledge of healing techniques and medicines. I'm curious to see what I can learn."

"Busy day." Mal muttered.

"I'll be back before sundown." Regina promised. "I always am."

Mal nodded. "I'll be back by then too. I should check the borders. Reacquaint myself with my territories."

"Oh. That's a long distance for you to fly. Are you ready for that much-"

Mal held up a hand, frowning. "There's people. Approaching the lair." She stood up. "Stay here," she began to make the motion to teleport, but Regina grabbed her hand.

"I will not. What if you need help?"

Mal frowned at her, but nodded. "All right. But stay behind me."

She took Regina's hand and teleported them to just outside the main gate, but still within the boundary of the protection spell. A small group of villagers were making their way up the narrow path, men and women, bundled against the cold and looking worried. Alys was among them, though she needed the help of a stout stick to hobble along on her broken leg. Haymo and Terric stood on either side of her; their old animosities had been buried by the common goals they now shared.

When Alys saw them materialise she called out, "Regina! We've come to get you!"

"The dragon's back!" Haymo shouted. "It's not safe for you here!"

Mal looked down at Regina. "These are friends of yours I take it?"

Regina nodded. "From the villages." She raised her voice and called out, "I am fine. There is no reason to worry!"

"But the dragon!"

"The dragon is not a threat!"

"We've seen her flying around all morning!"

"There's deer carcasses all through the woods!"

"I am not in any danger!"

The villagers had nearly reached them now, though Mal's protection spells kept them from approaching any closer.

"Regina, come away with us!" Alys pleaded.

"Before the dragon returns." Terric added.

Mal frowned. "Am I invisible?" she demanded.

That comment made the villagers pay closer attention to her. Alys screamed, "Maleficent!" They raised what meagre weapons they had. Mal growled.

Regina put a hand on Mal's arm to calm her. She said to her friends, "I am not in any danger. Maleficent is not a threat!"

"But Regina-"

"I keep telling you, I am safe here!"

"How can you be safe with that monster?" Terric demanded.

Mal shook her arm free of Regina's hand. Her face was set in a grim look. "Stay, or leave with them. The choice is yours."

"Mal-"

"I will return at sundown." She turned and walked away, transforming into the dragon when she had put enough space between them.

The villagers wailed in fear, some of them turned and ran back the way they had come. But Mal flew off in the opposite direction.

"Good. She's gone. You can come away with us." Alys pleaded again. "You'll be safe with us."

Regina glared at them. "What makes you think you can protect me from Mal? She is a dragon! If she wanted to tear your homes apart, she could do it without breaking a sweat!" 

Nobody dared to comment on the pride that underlined her words.

"We'll think of something!" Haymo said. "We can't leave you up here with her!"

"She is no threat! I know she looks scary, but she would never eat anyone!"

"She is a dragon!"

"She is my friend!"

The villagers looked at each other in consternation. This was not how they had envisaged the rescue going. Regina looked at their confused, worried, faces and sighed.

"Alys, Haymo, _friends_. Thank you for coming out here this morning." She did mean those words. She could only imagine the amount of bravery and the strength of the bond of friendship that would cause people to march off to face a dragon. "But I am perfectly fine here. Mal is no threat to me. She is a good person. And I trust her. Please - go back to your homes. I am fine."

They looked deflated. They had pumped themselves up to come rescue the damsel in distress, only to find that the damsel had no interest in being rescued. Quite the contrary.

"Will we see you later?" Alys asked at last.

"Yes, of course." Regina assured her. "I'm going past Saer's village first, and then to yours."

"Oh. All right. That's fine then. You're sure you won't want to stay on -?"

"Yes Alys. This is my home. I'm not leaving it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal gives Regina a few gifts, and the neighbours come calling again.

Regina returned to the lair early, a few hours before sundown. She stabled Rocinante and made her way towards the kitchens, her mind on the evening meal. She would make enough for both of them, even though she wasn't sure if Mal would eat with her again. She had seemed so angry at the gates this morning. Not that Regina blamed her. Mal had never given any indication that she would harm the villagers; in fact, she could be accused of indifference long before any charge of active maleficence could be brought. But yet the stories of her evilness had taken root in all their minds. Stefan's men had played on that too, spreading the story that Mal had roasted their colleagues alive and eaten them. Regina knew that Mal had never eaten - would never eat - a thinking being. Mal had said she would kill if she had to, but she would never consume a person. People were not food.

She was in the middle of peeling and chopping when Mal showed up at the kitchen door. She had a smug grin on her face, and both hands were filled with a fish. She flipped it casually on to the stone counter.

"That is the biggest trout I've ever seen!" Regina exclaimed.

Mal's grin grew even cockier. "It was the smallest one I could find."

"You've been fishing."

Mal shrugged. "You made a choice then?" she said, feigning disinterest.

Regina shook her head. "There was no choice to be made, Mal. I don't need rescuing. Not from you."

Mal gave a small, but pleased, smile.

As Regina had started cleaning the fish, Mal took over the task of chopping vegetables. She wondered whether Regina missed onions. They worked in companionable silence for a while, but something had been nagging at Mal.

"Was your day in the village successful?"

"Somewhat. Still no news on the mine. But I learned about several local plants and how to use them as medicines."

"That is useful." Mal said thoughtfully. "So, you plan to keep visiting the villages?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I am curious, do you not like the lair? Is there nothing here that you find...worthy of your time?"

Mal sounded hurt, and Regina frowned. "The castle - the lair - it's beautiful, Mal. But it's just so big. And impersonal. The rooms I have seen, they are filled with such impressive things. But there is no life to any of them!"

Mal frowned, and Regina put a hand on her arm to soften the blow of her words.

"Why do you even have stables? No living creature, other than Rocinante, has ever been inside those stables. And this kitchen - not a single knife or pot had been used before I got here. You don't ride and you don't cook. Why does your lair have stables and kitchens?"

Mal shrugged. "My lair is a castle. Castles have stables and kitchens."

"Oh." Well, that made some kind of warped sense, if you wanted authenticity rather than logic.

"You don't like it here." Mal said suddenly.

"No, it's not that! I just - I'm trying to see where I fit here, Mal. Who am I here."

Mal frowned. "You're Regina," she said, as if that ended any possible further discussion. It made Regina smile.

She tried again. "In the forest, I had a purpose. I took care of myself. I cared for you. Here ...  in the lair ... I don't need to hunt. I don't need to clean or mend anything. All that happens by magic. What is the point of me here, Mal? What use am I to you?"

"You don't need to have a use!" Mal countered. "You are a person, not a tool!"

Regina shook her head. "But _I_ need a purpose Mal. I can't be like all the things you have filled this lair with. Beautiful and frozen, sitting in rooms where they never move or change. I need life, Mal. I need life and purpose."

"How much of the lair have you seen?"

"A few rooms," Regina admitted. "I gave up when they all started blending in together."

"Will you let me show you something?" She held out a hand.

Regina washed the fish scales off her hands, and let Mal teleport them away.

 

The first thing that struck her was the warmth; the second thing that struck her was the smell. Earthy and fecund, it filled her nostrils, almost making her mouth water. There were bright splashes of flowers and fruit, vegetables growing fat and sturdy from vines and propped up on trellises. Mal had brought her to a garden, trapped under glass; it was warm and damp and exploding with life.

She was enchanted.

"Where are we?"

"Behind the kitchens," Mal pointed to a wall that abutted the glass-enclosed gardens. There was a green door set in the stone; Regina remembered seeing a similar door when she had explored the kitchen storerooms. But the door had been locked and she hadn't been able to find a key, so she had let it alone.

She wandered along the lanes, taking in all the greenery. After long weeks of the drab hues of winter, this riot of colour was a balm. "I don't know many of these," she turned to look at Mal. "I didn't know you were a gardener. You don't even like vegetables!"

Mal shrugged. "You don't have to like vegetables to be able to grow them. I picked up samples, on my travels. It is fascinating to grow something. They have personalities, these plants. You have to know how to treat them. When to coddle, when to scold."

Regina giggled suddenly. A dragon with a green thumb. No one would ever believe it.

Mal arched one elegant eyebrow at Regina's reaction, and she immediately looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. It's just ... the thought of you digging and weeding - it's very sweet."

Mal growled. "I do not weed." She reached for Regina, whose eyes shone with poorly hidden mirth. Regina let Mal take her by the hand and teleport them away from the garden.

They materialised back inside the lair, standing in a long corridor, before a large double door.

"We are on the sixth floor of the second tallest tower," Mal told her. "In case you want to find this place again." She pushed the doors open with an unusually dramatic flair, and indicated that Regina should precede her into the room.

Regina stepped curiously through the open doors, feeling Mal close behind her. When she saw what the room contained, she spun around to stare with widened eyes at Mal.

In essence, this room looked much like the great hall, with tall arched windows and high vaulted ceilings painted in rich colours. Broad columns held up a gallery that ran along the sides of the entire room. A golden light, much warmer than anything that could have been produced by the winter sun, softened the wood and leather furnishings. But, as grand as the room looked, what had made Regina turn to Mal in such wonder were the rows upon rows of shelves, stacked as high as the ceiling, every last one of them packed with books.

Even Mal's sardonic humour failed in the light of Regina's expression. She smiled Regina's favourite smile. "You like it?"

"I never imagined so many books."

"I've spent a long time collecting them."

"You've read them?" Mal nodded, and Regina asked, _"All?"_

Mal nodded again, and Regina's face turned slightly ashen. "It would take me _forever,"_ she whispered.

"Feel free to start anytime." She grinned at Regina's glare, then said "Wait, I'll be right back." She vanished in a flare of dark smoke. Regina stood transfixed, unsure what she should do. She found herself yearning to take something down from the shelves, but she wasn't sure how Mal would feel about that, so she waited to ask permission.

She did not have to wait long for Mal's return.

She re-materialised carrying the two books Regina had traded for rabbits. Regina felt suddenly ashamed of her gift; it was so insignificant compared to what Mal had here in this room. But Mal was holding the books as though they were something delicate and precious. She went to two different shelves, sliding each book into place between the tomes already resting there, so that they were absorbed into the great number of books. She returned to Regina, smiling that soft warm smile again.

"There. Now they are home. Where they belong."

Regina saw Mal frown, and felt her thumb brush along her cheek. She felt a spreading dampness and only then realised that she had tears in her eyes. Her chest was tight with something that felt very much like happiness.

"You do like it?" Mal's voice was tentative. "The library?"

Regina could only nod.

"Good." Mal's voice was confident again. "It's yours."

"What?" Regina found enough of her voice to ask.

"The library," Mal said in a too-casual tone, "It's yours. A gift."

"Why?"

"I thought you'd like it." Mal said, innocently and with a completely bland look on her face. "I worry you get bored sometimes."

"Oh." Regina's face looked a little crestfallen. _She's teasing me._ Mal was repeating the same things Regina had said to her, when she had brought her the books.

Mal made a grumbly noise and took Regina's hands between her own. "Regina, this library is yours. For you to do with as you please. It is _yours._ This, and the garden, and any other part of the lair you would like. I will have no dominion in this room. None. If you want me to leave, just tell me, and I will go. If you want to...to...burn every book in the place, then go ahead. Do it. The garden, the library, anyplace else you fancy - it is _yours_ \- to find life and purpose, and whatever else you need."

Before Mal had quite completed her declaration, Regina had pulled her hands free, flung her arms around Mal's neck, and pulled her head down so she could kiss her. This was not the tentative kiss she had first given Mal in the hot springs, nor was it the innocent kisses she had pressed to Mal's forehead and cold lips while she had lain ill and close to death. This kiss was fuelled by frustrated desire and a blossoming hope; it was teeth clashing against teeth; it was wet and demanding; it was a possessive, consuming fire.

She felt Mal rock back under the onslaught of her fervid mouth and grasping hands. But then Mal growled and crushed Regina to her body. She broke away from the kiss and Regina saw that Mal's eyes were the glowing yellow of a transformed dragon. Before she could react to that change, Mal was cupping her hands around Regina's jaw so she could tilt her face upwards and kiss her back, her lips moving urgently across Regina's mouth until Regina's lips parted. She felt Mal bite down on her lower lip, and then lave the soreness with her tongue; felt her draw her lip into a warm mouth and suck.

There was fire rushing through Regina's body, pooling hot and demanding at her centre. She groaned and writhed closer to Mal, needing more touch, more pressure, more of everything Mal was doing.

Then everything ended. Mal's mouth stopped its assault on hers, her hands left the back of her head, and Mal's body pulled away from her. Confused and dazed, Regina could only stare up at Mal - and notice that Mal was turning away, looking towards the window.

"There's people." At least her voice sounded as tortured as Regina felt.

"What?"

"Your friends," Mal ground out. "They're back."

 

A group of villagers - mostly women with a few men - had indeed gathered at the invisible boundary of the protection spell. As she and Mal materialised, Regina's eyes were flinty with exasperation, but her expression changed as soon as she got a proper look at the villagers. Unlike this morning, they did not look resolute and fired up; instead, it seemed as though they were fleeing a great calamity. They stood with shoulders slumped in defeat; some of the women were crying.

"What is wrong?" Regina demanded, her frustration forgotten.

Berta - a healer from Saer's village - stepped forward. "There's been an accident, Regina. The men in the mines. There was a cave in. Two, maybe three days ago. Word only just reached us."

"Are they -" she stopped herself before saying 'alright', because if these people were standing before her in the way they were, then no, the men were not alright. "What can we do?"

"Saer, Terric, twenty others, they are trying to get up the mountain." This from one of the men. "But it will take them all night to reach them. Maybe longer. There's a storm coming in."

They all looked towards the jagged dog tooth in the distance. Sure enough, dark clouds swirled around the peak and flowed down the slope. Regina shivered. 

"Please, Regina," Berta's voice was pleading. "You have magic. Is there something, anything, you can do? They may not last another night on the mountain!"

Regina felt her heart sink. She could possibly teleport to the mine from here, but once she was there, she did not have enough knowledge to be much help. She still could not take someone with her when she 'ported - that was a lesson Mal had not got to yet. 

She turned to face the dragon, who was watching her with an inscrutable look.

"Mal, will you help?"

"Regina -"

"Please? These people - they _need_ our help."

Mal bared her teeth. "The help of a monster?"

"Mal!" Regina bit back the annoyed response that had leapt to her tongue. "They don't know you like I do. They don't know any better! Please, Mal? I can't do it on my own."

"But you would try, wouldn't you?" Mal said quietly.

Regina didn't say anything, didn't even nod. She just looked at Mal, her face open and expectant. 

Mal sighed. She spoke to Berta, "This mine, it's the one half way up the mountain? By the river head?"

Berta nodded.

Mal looked down at what she was wearing - a silver-embroidered dress, with skirts that brushed the ground and sleeves that flared from elbow to wrist. She gestured and her clothing changed so she was now dressed as she had been when they lived in the forest, in boots and trousers, a long shirt and a cloak. She and Regina made a matched pair now, in their hunters' garb.

"Shall we?" she said to a smiling Regina. 

Mal reached out for Regina's hand, but she pulled back. 

"Wait! We'll need supplies. Water, tools -"

"Regina, anything we need, I can bring to us up on the mountain as easily as I can here at our gates."

"Oh. Of course." She gave Mal her hand, and they teleported away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I totally stole the gifting a library idea from Disney's Beauty and the Beast, because that is still one of my favourite bits of that movie, and B&B is still in my top 3 favourite Disney animated films. And I've been casting Mal as the Beast to Regina's Beauty for pages and pages now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Mal is the reluctant hero

The wind was kicking up billows of icy snow; it cut through her cloak like cold daggers, chilling Regina to the bone a few seconds after they materialised. She drew warmth into her, and felt her fingers thaw enough so she could move them. 

Mal put one hand on her shoulder and pointed to where the mine opening should have been. All they could see now was a large fall of rock, smooth boulders and jagged pieces of stone all jumbled together on the slope. Mal went striding through the snow towards it. She put her hands on the rockfall and Regina saw the glow of magic that spread out and into the rock. 

"They're in there," Mal shouted, the howl of the wind making it difficult to have a normal conversation. "But I can't risk using a spell to get them out from here. I may leave some parts behind." She didn't sound like she was joking. 

She pointed back downslope, to where there was some shelter behind an outcropping of rock. "Get back there Regina. Behind those rocks."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to go inside. See what we're up against."

"Take me with you."

"No, Regina. I need you out here. Behind those rocks!" She patted the boulder her hand was resting on. "If this shifts and falls, this is going to get a lot worse. You need to be able to 'port out before you get trapped."

"Mal-"

"You asked me for my help. Don't make me refuse you now."

"But-"

"If I do get caught, I'd rather you were out here, able to help us."

"Oh."

"Now, will you go!"

Regina glared at her for a second, then reached up and kissed her. "You be careful, Mal. I will never forgive you-"

"I know." She cupped Regina's face, her palm warm against cold skin. "Now go."

She went.

 

The air inside the mine was thick with dust and the smell of fear. Mal's lungs struggled to draw a clean breath. It was dark, and without her dragon eyes she was blind. She formed a glass of light.

Rocks and boulders littered what had once been a smooth floor and wooden beams had fallen from the ceiling, creating a hazardous maze. The walls crowded in on her. The men were laid out in various positions across the treacherous ground. Some were injured - she could smell blood and other bodily fluids and she could hear the pain echoing in their breathing. They all blinked weakly in the light she made, but only a few called out to her for help.

She walked through the bodies, assessing how badly injured they were and how great their needs. One man, older than the others, with grey just starting to streak through his hair, was able to meet her glance.

"Have you water?" he rasped.

She called up a full water skin and passed it to him. "Sip slowly," she warned. 

But the water wasn't for him. He was sitting next to a man - a boy really - who Mal could now see had been caught under a boulder that trapped his leg against the wall. The older man wetted, wrung out, and then soaked again a corner of his shirt; he wiped gently at the boy's face, cleaning away dirt and blood. Then he dampened his lips, a few drops at a time; the boys tongue emerged to gather up the moisture. The man's gentleness and care reminded Mal so strongly of Regina that she heard herself growl. She crouched down next to him.

"How many? Are there others, where I can't see them?"

The man shook his head. "This is all of us."

"I am going to start taking them out. I will need to take him last. If that boulder moves - it may cause a greater rockfall." 

The man nodded. "I will stay with him."

Mal worked as quickly as she could in the cramped cave. She teleported out, taking three or four men with her at a time. At her first reappearance, Regina had moved to hug her, then seen the injured men and gone into action. 

"Tell me what you need," Mal had said, and Regina had given orders - shelter, water, bandages, the salve that was sitting in a jar in the castle kitchen. Mal used magic to provide everything Regina asked for and left her to care for the men. On every return trip, Regina needed something else. She was dusty now, and she had blood all over her body - her hands, her shoes, her face where she had brushed her hair back. 

Finally it was just the man and boy left to bring out. 

"I am going to send you ahead," Mal told him. "Because I am not sure what will happen when I move him."

"I stayed with him this long. Please my lady, let-"

"I am no lady," Mal growled.

The man paused for barely a beat, then, "Please, your honour. I won't leave him."

"I will be better able to rescue him with you outside," Mal said gently. This man was so much like Regina, she felt her heart tighten. "I will take good care of him. I promise."

She started the spell that would send him out to where the other men were being cared for. "Tell Regina I will be right behind you," she said to him just before he disappeared. 

That left her alone with the boy. He looked up at her with eyes glazed with pain. Mal couldn't risk teleporting him without being able to see all of him, so she had to move the boulder first. But from what she could tell, it was propping up a large section of the ceiling that had cracked and looked like it would fall without the boulder's support. Mal knew that she would have only seconds to work.

She put one hand on the boulder and the other on the boy's shoulder. She pulsed magic into the rock and it crumbled into a cloud of dust. She heard the ceiling creak ominously, the first falling shards hitting her even as she was casting the teleport spell.

Mal and the boy materialised in the shelter outside. Regina was screaming her name, but even louder was the noise of rock crashing and cracking, and the thundering sound of a mountain of snow starting to shift. Mal gestured desperately, instinct sending her magic into the outcrop of rock against which she had cast the shelter. She thrust her hands upwards, and the rock followed her movement, unfolding, growing, reaching skywards. The snow hit the sudden obstruction and flowed around it. Mal kept casting, throwing up a barricade of magic around the small group huddled under the shelter, keeping the snow from sweeping around and carrying them away. The avalanche crashed and scraped along the barrier; the noise was thunderous, but the magic held.

After several long, loud, minutes the torrent of snow finally slowed and stopped. Regina flung her arms around Mal; she was shaking and Mal gathered her close, running her hands along her back, and whispering comfortingly into her ear.

When her heart had stopped racing, Regina pulled back in Mal's arms and poked her in the chest. "You _have_ to teach me to do that, Mal! I can't keep letting you do it all on your own!"

"In time," Mal said. "I've been using magic all my life, Regina. I was born to it. I _will_ teach you - in time."

Regina huffed at her, and then noticed the young man Mal had brought last out of the collapsed mine.

She dropped to her knees to examine him, and then tugged urgently at Mal's hand. "We have to get him back to the village. He is very badly hurt."

Mal nodded. "I'll take you and him first. Come back for the others." She looked around until she found the older man who had stayed with the boy. "You. What's your name?"

"I'm Ralf, your honour. Of Terric's village."

"I am going to bring the men down to -"

"Haymo's village," Regina cut in. "There are healers waiting there."

Mal nodded her understanding. She turned back to Ralf. "You will stay here. Look after the men until I return for them."

He straightened as much as his injuries would allow. "Yes, your honour."

Mal touched Regina lightly on the shoulder, cast the spell, and 'ported all three of them to the village.

Someone screamed as soon as they materialised. "Dragon!"

"Oh be quiet!" That was Regina. She called for Berta and Alys, started shouting orders about what was following behind her. Mal watched her for a few seconds and then returned to the mountainside.

The weather had not improved, and despite the shelter she had made, the men were shivering and blue-lipped. She took four with her on the next trip. Three women were waiting at the spot she had appeared, ready to tend to the men she brought. She could hear screaming from one of the houses, children carrying buckets and jugs were running through the adults milling aimlessly around the clearing. She could hear Regina calling orders from inside the house.

Back on the mountainside, she selected three men to bring back with her next. Ralf still stood like a soldier at attention, watching over his last charge. "I'll be back soon," Mal promised him.

She handed the three men over to two different waiting women. They looked shaken to be facing the dragon, but as soon as they saw the men, their common sense took over.

Back on the mountainside for the final trip, Mal put her hand on Ralf's shoulder. "Ready?"

He nodded. "Yes, your honour."

She brought the two men home.

There was only one healer waiting for them. The woman looked apologetically at Mal and Ralf.

"Look to him, lass," Ralf indicated the other man. "I can still walk. I'll bring myself to a healer."

She nodded and got to work, haranguing two onlookers to help her carry the man indoors.

Mal looked at Ralf. He was swaying on his feet and she could see the dark crust of dried blood that held his shirt to his ribs. His hands were raw and torn, as though he'd been digging bare-handed through rubble for hours. He probably had. She cast a teleportation spell and brought him into the house where she had heard Regina's voice.

"This man is hurt. He needs a healer." Her voice brooked no argument, and soon Ralf was being tended to.

Mal went in search of Regina. She found her in the centre of controlled chaos. The young boy was laid out on a table, biting down on a stick between his teeth. Two women were circling him, one stitching wounds closed, the other cleaning blood and dirt away from scrapes and bruises. A third woman was at his head, but she can't have been a healer, because all she was doing was stroking the hair back from his forehead and singing in a low tuneless voice. Regina was by the boy's leg. She looked furious. She glanced around to shout something and saw Mal.

She still looked furious, but her face softened somewhat. "You're okay?"

"I am. What do you need?"

"Something to brace his leg to. I've been waiting forever!"

Mal had to smile. She walked closer to the bed, and saw the bone jutting out of the boy's leg in three different places. "That doesn't look good."

"No." Regina's voice got soft, so the others couldn't hear. "I'm worried about him Mal. I don't think he'll-"

"Are you ready for a lesson, Regina?"

"What? Now! Are you-"

"We can help him."

"How?"

"Give me your hands. This will be easy, because you can so clearly see the damage, and what needs to be done to fix it. You and I, we're going to put these bones back the way they were."

Mal made Regina hold her hands over the boys shattered leg. She held her own hands over Regina's, close but not touching. She let her magic flow through Regina's hands. "Feel what I am doing, Regina. Watch what it does."

Regina watched as Mal worked. "It's just like the fire, Regina. These bones know how they _should_ be. All we're doing is letting that happen. Do you see?"

The bones looked like they were melting, they bent and shifted, crawling and twining like two fat white snakes. The boy's face clenched in a rictus of agony. He would leave indentations on the stick between his teeth.

"Do you want to try one?" Mal asked.

Regina shook her head, so Mal kept knitting the bones together. She kept her magic flowing through Regina's hands though, and finally Regina felt confident enough to try, when there was only a little damage left to be healed, when she couldn't do the boy more harm.

"There," Mal said proudly. "You picked that up quickly."

Regina gazed up into Mal's eyes, a broad smile on her face. "Thank you," she breathed.

Then three women were asking her questions at the same time, and Regina had to leave Mal to take care of all the little crises that were springing up all over the healing house.

Mal stood back and watched her work. She moved easily through the house, giving orders to the healers and their helpers, listening, patting men's hands and foreheads. Everywhere she went the tension seemed to ease, and the people grew more confident.

Mal found Ralf, looking much more comfortable now that his wounds had been dressed. "The boy?" he asked, his voice hiding fear.

"He will be fine," Mal assured him. "He's in good hands."

"Thank you, your honour."

"Your son?"

"All I have left of his mother."

"You have him still," Mal assured. She looked over at Regina again, still responding to all the demands being made of her. "Will you tell Regina that I returned to the lair? If she needs me, she can come find me there."

Ralf nodded, then he grabbed Mal's arm. "Begging your pardon your honour."

She stopped.

"I know you've done a lot for us already. But there's over twenty men trying to climb that mountain tonight. Looking for us."

Mal glared at him.

"I'm sorry your honour."

She sighed. "Which way will they have gone?"

"Along the river path. It's easiest. A direct line up."

"Fine," she growled. "I will go find them."

She stalked out of the house, transformed into a dragon in the clearing, and took to the skies with cries of "dragon!" lending force to her wing beats.

She spotted them easily, even through the storm. She alighted a few feet from them, where they had huddled for shelter under some close-growing trees.

Terric had leaped to his feet, drawing a short sword as she transformed.

"Calm yourself," she snarled. "I have a message for you."

"Spit it out, dragon! Before I gut you!"

Her lip curled into a sardonic smile. The silence lengthened while Terric glared impotently at her. Finally Mal huffed in annoyance. "The miners. They are safe. They are back in Haymo's village."

"Why should we trust you?"

Saer stood and put a hand on Terric's shoulder. "Hush Terric. Regina trusts her."

"Ralf asked me to get a message to you. And now I have fulfilled the last of my promises. Enjoy your walk home."

She transformed and flew back into the storm. Let them do what they would with her words. She had delivered the message; that was all she had promised to do.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where this story really earns its 'Mature' rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I refer to this chapter as the MSS - the marathon sex scene. And it probably would never have happened in quite this fashion if Oparu had not campaigned so much for me to stop tormenting Regina and Mal.

She returned to the lair to brood in her room.

Her chambers were much like Regina's in layout and design. Except her bed may have been a tad larger, the carvings of the legs and the headboard a touch more ornate, the colours more fiery than the cool blues and greens she had created for Regina. Mal flung herself into a chair by one of the fireplaces and stared into the flames.

She was beginning to understand what Regina had been trying to tell her. Regina surrounded by people, directing them, taking control - she had been in her element. Mal knew what that felt like every time she flew.

And what did Mal offer her? Some books and a few plants. The promise of magic lessons. No wonder Regina sought the company of the villagers so often. They were her own kind, and Regina was home when she was with them. And Regina deserved a home. It was obvious the lair was no home for her.

She lost track of how long she sat lost in her thoughts, but she knew the moment Regina returned to the lair. She felt her shining presence as soon as she crossed the protection spells. She had 'ported into her rooms. She was only a few feet away, and Mal ached to go to her. But she forced herself to stay where she was.

There was a tentative knock on her door.

"Come in," her voice was gruff.

Regina entered her room. Her clothes were clean and the blood that had stained her skin was gone. She stared around her, and looked surprised when she realised how similar their chambers were.

"Did you expect a cave?" Mal drawled, making Regina smile.

"It suits you."

She came all the way into the room and wandered around, not approaching Mal in her chair yet. "Thank you, for letting Terric and the others know. I hadn't even considered them."

Mal shrugged. "It was Ralf's idea. He is a good man."

"Are you all right?" Regina was frowning; something about Mal's demeanour was setting her teeth on edge. "You seem...troubled."

"The boy, Ralf's son-"

"Gil."

"Gil. He will recover?"

"Yes! Thanks to you. That was amazing, Mal!" Her eyes had lit up and her voice grew warm and excited. 

Mal shrugged.

Regina's aimless wandering brought her nearer to Mal. Her voice grew huskier, " _You_ were amazing."

Mal growled. She got up from the chair and moved to the window.

"Mal," _Damn her voice and its power_. "You said to me once that we could try again - once I knew all your secrets."

Mal felt a shock hammer through her.

"I have been very patient," Regina was saying. "I have waited. Do I know all your secrets now, Mal? Or is there something besides you being a dragon that I should know about?"

"I'd've thought the dragon thing would be quite sufficient."

"I think you're wonderful. As a human _and_ as a dragon."

Mal groaned. "Regina. You need to think about this-"

"I have thought about this Mal. I have been doing nothing but think about it for days! I know all I need to know about you! You are grouchy and bad tempered and sarcastic, and you are kind and generous and brave and _good._ And I want you."

Mal felt something she recognised as fear flutter through her chest. "Regina, please. You deserve someone better than-"

"I don't want better! I want you!"

Mal retreated behind sarcasm. "Well, with such silver-tongued charm, who could possibly resist you?"

Regina threw her hands up in exasperation. "You know what I mean! You keep offering me choices, Mal! Fight or fly, stay or go."

"You _should_ have choices," Mal growled.

"Fine. Good. I _am_ choosing. I am choosing you!"

"You can't. You shouldn't-"

"No. You can't do that. You can't offer me choice and then tell me I can't choose when I do!"

"Regina, please. I am trying to think of what's best for you."

"Do you not want me? Is that what this is?" Her look dared Mal to lie to her. Mal groaned again. She had made her desire very apparent, and she wouldn't insult Regina by denying her now.

"You know that I do."

Regina smiled, her eyes hooded and the curve of her mouth enticing. "Well then," she started to move closer, but then she stopped. A worried look settled on her face. "Unless..." her voice was hesitant, "Briar Rose."

"What?" Mal was confused.

"Do you think I'll do what she did? That I will betray you?" Her voice was so low and scared that Mal yearned to hold her.

"Oh Regina. I fear many things. You being faithless will never be one of them." She spoke with absolute sincerity. 

Regina beamed. She lit up like a flame, radiating joy. The last lingering bit of doubt she harboured was burned away – the worry that Mal did not feel the same trust she did – that she was holding back because she thought she had to protect herself; that, like Briar Rose, Regina would be a danger to her.

"Mal," her voice was breathless with happiness. "You're right. I never will. Now please, can we stop this...this... _frustrating_ denial of what we both want?"

"You want me-"

"Utterly. Please."

"You should be more wary Regina. You should not be so generous with yourself."

"Why not? Why should I be afraid?"

Mal growled, low and just on the edge of hearing. An involuntary shiver went through Regina, and she felt her skin mottle with goosebumps. It was not entirely an unpleasant sensation. Mal had crossed the room till she stood before her, looming over her, her face shadowed and grim.

"You should be afraid," she said, her voice gruff with threat, "because I am greedy, Regina. I will take _everything_ that you are offering." She reached up with one hand to hold Regina's chin, tilting her face upwards so that she could stare directly into Mal's eyes, eyes that glowed yellow with her desire. "And I am self-centred enough to keep you all to myself."

Regina stared back at her, unflinching.

"And what if that is exactly what I want?"

Mal's eyes widened in what must have been shock, and she growled again, a rumbling noise that went on for long seconds. It was a sound that curled its way into Regina's belly and filled her with heat that flushed through her body, making her breathing quicken and her limbs heavy.

Mal moved closer, until their bodies were almost touching. But not quite. Regina swayed, trying to find contact.

"I will take you," Mal warned, almost desperately.

Regina took her face between her hands, and pulled Mal's mouth to her own, kissing her hungrily. "Then take me." It was an order.

Mal crushed Regina to her, but her kisses were surprisingly gentle. Regina whimpered into Mal's mouth, not quite able to give words to what she needed. Mal tore her mouth from Regina's as if it took a great effort and buried her face in her neck. She inhaled sharply and groaned. She pulled back and gazed intently at Regina, her eyes fading from yellow to blue as she fought for control.

"I am going to make love to you Regina," she said finally, her voice level and firm. "And what I am going to do should feel good. If it doesn't - if it hurts, or if it makes you uncomfortable - you have to tell me. Do you understand? Tell me, so I can stop."

Regina nodded. There was no doubt or fear in her eyes, and Mal groaned again. She was defenceless against this woman. She had nowhere left to hide. "I won't hurt you, Regina," she pleaded. "I can't."

"I know," Regina soothed. "I know." She pulled Mal to her again and kissed her, slow and sweet, gentling Mal's anxiety. Mal allowed her mouth to soften under the onslaught of Regina's kisses, and she sighed in final defeat.

She bent lower and swept Regina off the ground, lifting her up into her arms. Even in human form, Mal still had some of the dragon's strength, and she carried Regina easily. Taken by surprise, Regina laughed, drawing her head back and breaking off their kiss. Mal nuzzled her neck instead, licking and nibbling at her skin until Regina's laughter turned to breathless moans and she sought out Mal's lips again. Mal lost herself in the feel of Regina's mouth, luscious and sweet like the finest of berries. She wanted to plunder that mouth, to force Regina's lips to part so she could drink her fill, but she contented herself with sips.

She had considered her options when she first picked Regina up - the rug by the fire, or the bed, or...ah yes. Perfect. She strode purposefully forward, and carefully stepped over the edge of the tub, submersing them both. Regina squeaked in surprise when she found herself up to her neck in warm water. Mal kept moving until she had Regina's back to the tub wall, keeping her in place with the pressure of her body.

For the next few minutes Mal indulged herself, using her mouth, and her hands, plying Regina with kisses by turns gentle and bruising, nipping with her teeth and soothing with her tongue, letting her fingers curve possessively around Regina's breasts so that her thumbs could brush against hardened nipples. The heat of the water drew her back to the hot springs, when Regina had offered herself so fearlessly, and Mal had forced herself to turn her down. It seemed every day that had passed since then Regina had kept offering and Mal's reasons for refusing her grew weaker and weaker, until they arrived at this moment, with Mal lightheaded with desire and Regina writhing beneath her, her voice roughened with pleasure as she begged Mal for more.

Finally Mal relented. In a flare of magic she moved them from the tub to the rug by the fireplace. The fire burned brightly, pouring out waves of heat that would soon dry the water that clung to Regina's skin. Mal pulled back and busied herself unlacing and removing Regina's clothing, casting shirt and tunic aside and pulling the trousers from her in one deft movement. She stared hungrily down at the body she had revealed. Mal had seen Regina naked before, for many different reasons. But never like this, with her eyes hooded and her mouth parted and her body open and welcoming. The firelight danced over Regina's wet skin, and Mal traced lazy patterns over her belly, whispering truths that could no longer be denied; that Regina was beautiful; that she was everything Mal wanted; that she was hers.

Regina reached up for her, and Mal went gladly, letting Regina wrap her arms around her neck and pull her down so Regina could kiss her again and again. When Mal had sated herself with kisses, when Regina's lips were red and swollen with it, she moved away from Regina's mouth and kissed her way lazily down her neck. Regina tasted of salt and musk and fire, at once familiar and mysterious. Mal lapped at her skin, intoxicated with her scent. She began a slow exploration of Regina's body, mapping her with mouth and tongue, finding the spots that made Regina gasp and writhe and arch her back to try to get closer to her wandering mouth. But Mal decided to be wicked, refusing to be captured for too long by just one spot. So when Regina's breath whimpered in pleasure, she'd move on, looking for another place that would elicit that response. And then another. And another. Until she could feel Regina go boneless under her touch, almost melting into the rug.

When Mal finally settled between Regina's legs, she hummed with pleasure at what she found. Regina's scent was stronger here, and she was open to Mal's sight and touch, laid out like a feast. Mal growled, feeling the pride rise within her, almost drowning out the desire. The guttural "Mine," bubbled up almost without her awareness. Now that she had made the declaration, she had to follow through, claiming what was hers. She nosed forward and lapped her tongue slowly along wet heat. Regina threw her head back and howled. Mal paused suddenly concerned that she had moved too quickly, but Regina begged, pleading for her to not stop, to keep going. Giddy with the evidence of Regina's desire, Mal bent to her again, continuing the slow exploration she had started, seeking out every ridge and whorl and bump until Regina was sobbing. When those sobs focused down to a single word - "please" - repeated over and over, Mal took pity on her, and her mouth closed over that heated, swollen nub that craved her attention. She felt Regina tighten around her, body straining like a bow drawn taught. Mal continued suckling and licking at Regina's trembling body, until Mal's mouth was filled with her, and Regina's cries of pleasure turned to pleas to stop, her hands pushing urgently at Mal's head. Mal stopped her assault on Regina's now-oversensitive flesh and raised her head, revelling in what she had accomplished. Regina lay trembling, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. Her eyes were closed, one hand partially obscuring her face, her hair a tangled mess spread across the rug. Her breasts heaved most enticingly as she panted and gasped for breath through parted lips. Grinning a predator's grin, Mal crawled up Regina's body, pausing to kiss her stomach and her breasts and finally the side of her mouth. She settled next to Regina, and pulled her to turn so she lay across her body. She caressed Regina's back with firm soothing strokes, letting her know she was there with her. Mal felt her own body vibrate with contentment, her chest rumbling with a purr.

"That was _most_ satisfactory," she whispered into Regina's ear.

Regina giggled into Mal's chest.

"What?"

"Oh, I was just thinking. What everyone warned me about, it's really true."

"What?" Mal repeated, confused.

"Dragons really do eat virgins aliv-"

The rest of her comment was lost in a muffled squeak when Mal pinned her on her back with a growl. She kissed her forcefully, while Regina continued to giggle helplessly. Finally Mal gave up and snuggled into Regina, huffing an affronted sigh.

Regina's laughter eased, and her face grew thoughtful. She ran her hands up and down Mal's still-clothed back.

"It's a bit of shame really."

From the tone of her voice, she was obviously teasing, but Mal still asked, "What is?"

"We've lost the opportunity to make history. You could have been the first dragon eaten by-"

"Enough!" Mal growled, laughing despite herself. "You are very daring, my dear."

"And you are very not-naked. I think we should do something about that." She tugged ineffectually at Mal's shirt.

Mal grinned. "Ready to show me what you've learned?"

Regina nodded eagerly, and with a wave of her hand, Mal had magicked away her clothes and moved them to the bed.

"So, show me."

 

Regina seemed to have lost herself in kissing Mal. Not that Mal was complaining exactly because Regina, as in all things, was being very thorough. She had started tentatively, her lips barely moving against Mal's mouth. Then Mal had sucked gently on Regina's lower lip, and Regina had made a moaning sound, and started kissing her back so hungrily that Mal had to grip the sheets to keep herself from flipping Regina on to her back. She was going to let Regina take the lead this time, let her set the pace and direction of their coupling, even if she had to chain herself to the bed to allow it.

It didn't help that Regina was punctuating her kisses with lingering looks, gazing down at Mal with shining eyes, her mouth curving into a smile so broad and radiating such happiness that all Mal could do was growl up at her. Regina's happiness made Mal impatient, made her yearn to do so much more than lie supine and be kissed and be touched. But every time Mal growled her impatience, Regina's smile would widen and her head would dip and her mouth would return to tormenting Mal's skin. When she started using her teeth, grazing along the side of Mal's neck and biting down on her earlobe, Mal heard herself make the most inappropriate sounds. Dragons did not whimper or moan just because their lover bit them. _Especially_ if the whimpering made your lover laugh in that throaty way that sent shivers rippling along your skin. She was tight with desire, but Regina was only now starting a leisurely descent; apparently she was going to recreate the path Mal had traced along her own body. Mal started thinking quite seriously of a way to magic up some restraints, because even though she was twisting the sheets almost to tearing, she was losing the battle to keep her hands off Regina. And if she started touching Regina she would not be able to stop.

Regina was ghosting her mouth along Mal's collarbone, using her tongue and teeth to outline the bone so clearly defined by a desire-tautened body. She stopped abruptly. Her questing tongue had brushed across a ridge of scar tissue, and she had pulled back. Mal could see the concern in Regina's eyes, and her heart sank.

"Are you all right?" Mal asked.

Regina nodded, but she kept glancing down at the jagged scar on Mal's chest and the fainter lines that crisscrossed her stomach. She traced a gentle finger along the larger scar.

"Does it hurt? When I touch you?"

Mal shook her head. "No. It feels strange - this one -" she tapped her chest. "Like it doesn't belong to me. The others, not at all." She sighed. "Does it bother you?"

Regina looked quizzically at her.

"The way they look. Does it bother you? When you touch me."

"Oh." Regina's eyes widened in understanding. "No. No, not at all. I was worried that it hurt." She smiled a soft smile that eased Mal's concern. "You're beautiful," she offered shyly.

Mal felt the susurration of pleasure she always did when Regina surprised her in this way.

"It's just..." Regina stammered to a halt, then tried again. "When I see them, I think of them...hurting you. And it makes me -" There were tears in her eyes now, and she brushed at them angrily. "It makes me upset. Not the way they look on you, but when I think of how much you hurt..." Her voice, thick with unshed tears, trailed off, and she lowered her head to rest against Mal's shoulder.

Mal curled one hand around Regina's chin and lifted her face so she could kiss her. "I could remove them," she murmured against Regina's mouth. "With magic. If you like."

"Oh. Really?" Then there was confusion in her face. "Wait, then why haven't you already?"

Mal shrugged. "I don't feel the way you do. These scars remind me, not of what they did to me, but of what I am capable of." She saw the sadness return to Regina's face and kissed her softly before continuing. "And when I look at them, it is not those who gave them to me I think of. It's you."

Regina looked so startled, that Mal began to regret starting this. But she persisted. "These scars know your touch Regina. They remind me of _you_. The way you touched me when you cared for me - even when you came at me with that damned needle, you wanted only to heal me. Not to hurt. And that is why I kept them."

She stared intently into Regina's eyes, willing her to understand. She still saw confusion and sadness, so she said, "They distress you. I will remove them."

"No!" Regina's refusal was emphatic. "They don't _distress_ me. As long as they don't cause you pain. They are...these scars...they are part of you. And all of you is precious to me." She kissed Mal fiercely and hungrily.

Mal tasted the salt of tears and something inside her shifted. She wrapped her arms around Regina and rolled over so that her body was beneath her. Good intentions be damned. Regina could take her turn later. First, Mal was going to make her forget she had any cause for sadness or tears.

 

 

It was later, and Regina was settled between Mal's legs, her mouth just where Mal wanted her, but she was laughing again. It was sending delicious vibrations along nerves already overloaded with pleasure.

Mal growled, "If you are thinking of that silly joke -" Damn her, she removed her mouth to answer.

"Never." The wicked grin told the lie, but Mal didn't bother to challenge her.

"Are you planning on stopping?"

"Never." And, thankfully, her mouth returned, still humming with laughter.

Mal was discovering that Regina laughed during sex, her joy bubbling up to her lips at the most unexpected moments. It should have been more vexing. Instead, Mal suspected that she was developing an attachment to that sound. She very much feared, along with Regina's wicked smile, and her voice when it grew even huskier than usual, and the way she shouted when she was angry, that she soon would add the sound of Regina's laughter to the growing list of things that made her think of sex.

 

 

It was later still, and Regina was propped up on one elbow, her hair falling over her face. But Mal could see her eyes and her smiling mouth.

"I like you like this," Regina whispered.

Mal grinned. "What, naked and sated?"

"That too. But I was thinking more of you happy."

Mal huffed, then put her arm around Regina's shoulders and pulled her down. She moved so that she was cradling her from behind, then kissed her ear and whispered "You should sleep."

Regina shifted so she fit closer into Mal's body. The talk of sleep made her yawn. But still she asked, "Why?"

"You have lessons in the morning."

"Oh," she sounded sleepily eager. "Can you teach me how to fly?"

Mal chuckled. "No, Regina. Only dragons can fly."

"Oh," disappointed. "What else can dragons do, that humans can't?"

"Lots of things," Mal replied dryly. "I'll give you a book."

"Are you in this book?" Her voice was slurring now, and she snuggled even closer to Mal.

"No."

"Tha's not fair." Regina said through a yawn. "I'll write one. I'll write the truth about you." Her voice got so low that Mal only just heard "The title'll be 'Maleficent, The Kind." And then Mal heard the steady sound of her sleeping breath.

"Maleficent, The Foolish, more like," Mal said dryly. "Maleficent, the Should Know Better."

But she stayed where she was, holding Regina until sleep claimed her too.

 

 

Mal was standing at the window - the one that looked out at the mountains - when Regina woke. The sun had just risen, and the land below was washed in pale gold. Regina’s naked skin glowed in this light, as though she walked through firelight. The fire had burned low though, so when Regina wrapped her arms around Mal’s waist and pressed their bodies together, Mal asked "Aren’t you cold?"

Regina shook her head, snuggling into Mal’s back. "No. Not anymore. I was, when I woke up and you were gone." Mal could hear the frown when she asked next, "Why are you dressed?"

"Because it’s morning." She smoothed a hand down over her full skirt. "And you have lessons."

"Come back to bed," Regina whined. "I’m cold by the window."

Mal laughed, but she turned and picked Regina up off the ground. She kissed her as she moved them back towards the bed, and set Regina down gently on her feet. Regina’s eyes lit up when she got her first look at the front of Mal’s dress; Mal favoured high collars that swept down into plunging necklines. She leaned forward and ran her tongue along the curve of a breast and Mal shuddered. Regina sat on the edge of the bed and wriggled back towards the headboard, leaving her legs quite deliberately spread; she reached out for Mal’s hand. "Come tell me what you’re going to teach me today."

Mal growled and crawled up the bed, dragging her hands up the insides of Regina’s thighs and along the sides of her body. Regina was trembling even before Mal kissed her, pushing her into the bed with the weight of her body. She felt Regina’s hips buck beneath her, and she pulled back, leaving an open space between them, which made Regina whimper in frustration.

"Today you’re going to learn to fetch something to you." Looking down into Regina’s incredulous face, Mal couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her pouting mouth. "Where is your shirt?"

Regina shifted beneath her and grinned wickedly. "Wherever you threw it last night. When you stripped it off me."

Mal decided that little bit of insolence couldn’t go unchallenged, so she took one turgid nipple in her mouth and sucked until Regina was moaning and her hips were writhing in time to the movement of Mal’s mouth.

When Mal released the nipple, Regina groaned, but Mal continued, "So, it’s not that far away. Focus on it, concentrate on what it feels like in your hands."

"It’s not the shirt I want in my hands!" Regina protested, and began to run said hands along the only part of Mal’s body she could touch, the tantalising swell of breasts held between dark fabric.

"Focus, Regina," Mal said warningly.

Regina sighed and closed her eyes, frowning in apparent concentration. Then her eyes opened and gleamed mischievously up at Mal. "Wait. If I can fetch something to me, could I also send something away?"

"That depends, on what-"

Regina tugged at the heavy folds of Mal’s dress, and Mal’s eyes narrowed.

"Regina, removing someone’s clothing without their express permission would be _highly_ impolite."

Regina’s mischievous grin widened. "I am _very_ impolite."

Mal growled menacingly, which only caused Regina to shiver deliciously. Mal could smell her arousal; it filled her senses, making the blood race in her veins like she was in the middle of a hunt. Her growl still a low rumble in her chest, Mal lowered her head back to Regina’s breasts and deliberately closed her mouth over a nipple. Regina’s eyes had widened, her pupils so dark they were almost black; she was gasping and bucking. Mal realised she had lost whatever battle they had been fighting. She grasped Regina’s wrists and raised her arms over her head, holding her gently but firmly in place with one hand. She slipped her other hand between Regina’s legs, dragging one finger along slick folds. Regina’s gasps became a high-pitched whine, and Mal released her nipple so she could kiss her.

"Tell me again how impolite you are," she whispered against her mouth, as her finger swirled lightly.

Regina gasped and thrust her hips forward. Mal pulled her hand back in perfect time, not stopping the frustratingly light touches. She sucked on the other nipple this time, her finger still barely touching Regina’s swollen flesh, then another kiss and the whispered directive, "Tell me again how impolite you are."

The words didn’t mean anything by this point; she doubted Regina could entirely comprehend what she was saying, and she certainly wasn’t looking for her to respond. But Mal repeated the sequence until Regina begged brokenly "How are you able to make me feel this way?"

There was such complete surrender in her voice that Mal wanted to howl her victory. Instead she licked and nibbled at the sensitive skin behind Regina’s ear and then whispered gruffly, "Because your body knows that it was made to be mine."

And as if to prove her point, Regina stiffened and cried out in release.

Mal kept stroking, using a second finger now and firming her touch, and Regina kept shuddering and crying out beneath her until finally she sobbed "Enough. Please Mal. Stop!"

Mal stopped. She released Regina’s wrists and lay besides her, one hand caressing Regina’s hair, the other running soothingly along her thigh. Regina fought to regain her breath then growled, the sound a rival to anything Mal had yet produced. She rolled over, glared at Mal, and tugged at the high collar of her dress. "Get rid of this," she ground out, "before I tear it off you."

In a moment, Mal was as naked as Regina. She pounced, biting and licking and sucking frenetically at Mal’s skin. She used the weight of her smaller body to hold Mal down, spread her open, and take her, using her mouth and teeth and fingers. Mal let her have her way, relishing the strength with which Regina possessed her. When she achieved her own release, her climax was so powerful that when she arched off the bed, she lifted Regina into the air with her.

Afterwards, Regina gathered her into her arms, holding her close, and laughed shakily.

"That was...oh...I never thought it could be like this."

"Hmm?" Mal was rumbling with contentment.

"When mother would bring me to all those men. No matter how handsome they were, or how charming. None of them...never...I never thought it would be like this."

Mal smiled. "Good. All for me."

Regina laughed. "You _are_ greedy."

"I did warn you."

"Have you had many?" Regina’s voice was thoughtful. "Lovers, I mean."

"Yes." Direct and unapologetic.

"Oh."

"I have lived a long time, Regina," Mal said gently. "I was already ancient before you were born."

"Oh." Regina’s face was pensive as she thought about this. Then she said, "That’s all right then. I don’t like the thought of you being lonely."

Mal kissed her, her lips curved in a surprised smile.

Regina hadn’t exhausted her questions though. "Do all dragons live that long?"

"Yes. That’s why we tend to live alone. No one can hold a grudge quite as long as a dragon. And we’re easily annoyed."

Regina giggled. "I noticed." Then she frowned, "Do you mind, that I’m so much younger?"

Mal sighed and turned in Regina’s arms so she could look at her. "Yours is a short-lived race, Regina. You blink in and out of existence so very quickly." Her voice was sad. "If I waited until you caught up -" she let the thought trail off.

Still secure in the immortality of her youth, Regina did not understand why Mal was sad. As far as she was concerned, life stretched out before them, and they had all the time in the world.

 

 

They were in the great hall, in the chair by the fire, where Mal had lain healing for so long. She lay there again now, but this time Regina was with her, rather than camped out on the floor below. Mal was behind Regina, her arms curled around her body. Regina had brought them here, wanting happier memories to replace the dark ones, where she had watched over Mal and despaired for her survival.

Regina was practicing the new spell Mal had taught her, fetching things from all over the lair; a bowl from the kitchen, a cushion from her bed, a brush from the stables. There was a small pile of random objects on the ground by her side. It was growing more and more difficult for her to concentrate on the magic, as Mal insisted on kissing her neck as she whispered instructions.

Regina squirmed as Mal murmured "Oh, well done" into her ear, nipping on her earlobe as she did so. The brass globe she had just called from the library crashed to the ground. Mal tutted. "Oh dear." She snaked a hand under the hem of Regina’s shirt and brushed a thumb roughly over her nipple. Regina gasped, "Not fair. That was heavy. And you are distracting."

They had been doing this for what felt like hours. Mal would tell Regina where to fetch something from, and Regina would have to remember an object from that location that she could call to her. The lesson had started out innocently enough, but soon Mal’s hands had started wandering, and Regina had said something cheeky, and then the rules of the game had changed a little. Now Mal caressed her as she gave orders, and Regina had to fight for the focus to control her magic over the demands of her body.

"Something from the garden," Mal said, her thumb still moving.

Regina groaned and squirmed. She could feel her wetness, but Mal had her spread and held immobile between her legs, and there was nothing Regina could do to ease the tension. Mal licked behind her ear. She was so not playing fair. She tried to focus, but all she could think of was the way Mal was making her feel. Her body was taut with the tension of pleasure promised but unfulfilled. She refused to be beaten. But all she managed to call from the garden was a single leaf.

Mal’s laugh was evil. Her thumb stopped its torment of Regina’s nipple, but her hand now slid under the waistband of her trousers. Regina’s gasped as Mal’s fingers slipped slowly into the slickness between her legs. "Enough?" Mal whispered. Regina bucked her hips, but Mal’s fingers were still.

"Mal." Her voice was a breathless, piteous, whine. She didn’t care. "Please."

"Enough?" Mal was relentless.

"Yes, yes. Enough. I give in."

Mal growled into her ear, spread Regina open, and finally gave her the pressure and friction her body had been craving. Regina clawed at Mal’s arm as she twisted and thrust her fingers deeper. Oh this was so much better than when she’d lain in her big, round bed, alone and desperate, wanting Mal. This was worth losing the game for.

Remembering that night she’d spent alone, Regina needed to touch Mal. Even though she lay against Mal’s body, it wasn’t enough. She needed something more to anchor her, to ground her in this moment. She reached behind her to pull Mal’s head forward so she could kiss her, filling Mal’s mouth with her breathy, pleading cries. Mal’s fingers kept time with her thrusting hips; she curled her thumb to rub and press in just the position that drove Regina over the edge. Regina screamed. She felt Mal’s lips stretch into a triumphant smile, heard her growl, felt the vibrations of that growl in her mouth; her climax grew more powerful, her body spasming in release, until she had to beg Mal to stop.

Still shaking, she turned over in Mal’s arms so she could bury her face in her neck. As her breathing slowed she started to giggle.

"What?" Mal sounded more amused than exasperated.

"Oh, I was just thinking. If all my tutors had used incentives like this, I would have been such a good student."

Mal huffed. "I wouldn’t call you a _good_ student-" she broke off. "I don’t believe this."

"What?"

"The villagers. They are back at the gates."

"Oh no. What now?" Regina said, concerned, as she hastily straightened her clothes. She got to her feet and looked down at Mal expectantly.

"Oh all right." Mal sighed. "But if they want me to move any more mountains-"

They teleported to the gates to find a small contingent of villagers already gathered. There were some faces familiar to Mal - she spotted Haymo and the uncouth Terric. She nodded hello to Ralf who actually raised a finger to his forehead in some form of salute in response. The woman - Berta - who had come to them yesterday was also here. There were a few more that Mal did not recognise.

"Is everyone alright?" Regina called out as soon as they had appeared.

"Yes, Regina." Berta replied. "We’ve come for Maleficent actually."

Regina’s face grew grim. "What do you want with her?"

"To say thank you," Berta’s voice choked. Mal noticed tears in her eyes. "One of the men you saved yesterday - my husband."

"You brought our sons and fathers back to us," Haymo said gravely. "When you had no cause to help us."

"It’s not me you should be thanking," Mal said curtly. "It’s Regina."

"Oh, we know the debt we owe her, your honour." Ralf had taken a step forward. "And we know the debt we owe you."

"There is no debt," Mal growled. "What I did - it was with no expectation of return." She didn’t have to look at Regina to know she was smiling up at her.

"Even so, your honour," Ralf was persistent. "We’ve come to tell you. You have our gratitude."

"And our apologies," Haymo added. "The lady Regina is right - dragon or not, you are a good person. We will not forget." He turned and pulled Terric forward. "Have you something to say?"

Terric looked shamefaced. "I am sorry I called you a monster. It will not happen again." He looked at Regina. "And I am sorry for doubting you."

Regina looked up at Mal and saw surprise on her face. She took Mal’s hand.

Haymo was speaking again. "If you please, would you share the evening meal with us? In my village. There will be ale, and some venison. And Alys has promised to sing."

Regina clapped her hands. "Oh, I love her singing!" She glanced up at Mal.

The dragon wasn’t sure there was no threat in this offer of friendship, but the look on Regina’s face told her what her response must be. "I look forward to hearing her then."

Regina flung an arm around Mal’s waist, laughing happily. "Good! That’s settled. We’ll be down at the village in time for supper."

It was the children who saved the gathering from turning into something awkward and stilted. They had all seen Mal bring the men home, and heard the story of how she had magically knitted Gil’s shattered leg together; some of them had seen her transform into the dragon. So while the adults hung back and were overly polite, the children gathered around Mal’s skirts, curious and eager to have her talk to them. The bolder ones begged for some magic. The very young ones wanted to play in the velvet softness of her skirts. All of them were captivated by her, with no sign of fear in their enthusiasm to be near her.

Regina watched, fascinated, as Mal’s reactions shifted. She started off wary at all the attention, then a little bemused; she kept glancing to Regina for help, but while Regina kept a watchful eye on her, she left her to fend for herself. Finally the bemusement gave way to cautious friendliness. By the time the gathering had consumed the first barrel of ale, Mal was creating small trinkets and toys for the children, and telling them tales that had been told to her when she was young.

Regina allowed herself to feel some hope. It hurt and angered her when the villagers expressed unthinking fear or hatred of Mal. But it seemed that they were finally getting to see the Mal that she knew - the true Mal. Surely they would have no other option but to love her. And the more Mal realised that not all humans wished her ill, the more likely it would be that Regina’s plans would be successful. But that was for the future. Tonight she would enjoy the simple pleasure of watching Mal sit by a roaring fire in the middle of a village she had brought so much happiness to, and play with the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for the updates! This story is now officially on hiatus.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Mal play 'let's build a realm' together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....and we're back. After a hiatus that went on far longer than I thought it would (I am so sorry). Writer's block sucks, but I think I'm back on track now!
> 
> This is a foreshadowy sort of chapter, and probly a bit of a calm before a storm. (There will likely be more than one storm).

Regina leaned back on her heels and pushed the hair from her face; she left a streak of dirt across her forehead. It was a perfect morning in late spring - the air was bracing, the sky was blue, and the ground was warm and pliable enough to make digging and planting enjoyable, if messy. It was good work, she thought, work that demanded the use of muscles and raised a sweat and left you feeling tired in a way that made you proud. Not like using magic. Magic left her body energised and excited, like needles were pricking her all over, but her mind exhausted. Not that she loved magic any less than planting the seeds of this new crop. But for some tasks, she preferred to use her hands, to get dirty and sweaty with the rest of the people.

She looked over the fields, smiling and waving at a few villagers who had also paused in their labour. Men, women and children worked steadily, moving along long furrows in the dark earth, digging small holes and scattering seed. This would be a new plant for them; it was something that Mal had brought back from her travels, a sort of black bean that grew in even the most inhospitable conditions and cooked up well. It would make a good supplement for the winter food stocks, if they could get it to grow here. Regina wasn't overly worried that this plant would not be a success, because they had many options to try. Mal had opened up the gardens and had been showing Regina all sorts of fruits and vegetables that could possibly thrive outside the protection of her magic and glass house. Alys had helped Regina organise a small team of villagers and soon they had laid out sections of land to plant, and when spring had come they had set to tilling and sowing.

Regina was about to return to her work when she saw a shadow cross the sky, and heard the familiar beat of wings. She got to her feet and waited for Mal to land and transform. She had been working with the team who were trying to drain the swamplands and stem the flooding of the river plains. She'd head out every morning to work with the men, using her strength and her magic as needed.

When Mal took human form, she was dressed very much as Regina was, in trousers and a tunic and vest. She tended to save the gowns for when they were alone in the lair together. Mal raised her arms above her head and stretched. Regina could almost feel the strain in her muscles. Mal always flew back home. She'd ‘port to wherever she needed to be in the morning, but to get home she'd transform into the dragon and take the long way back. Regina would watch her sometimes as she approached the lair, gliding and banking with the wind. It made her heart glad to watch it; she could only imagine the effect it had on Mal.

Mal headed directly to her; she never needed to scan the group working in the fields or ask anyone where she was. She could pick Regina unerringly from a crowd and at a great distance. When she reached her, Mal folded Regina into her arms and held her close. She buried her face into the curve of Regina's neck and breathed her in.

"I hate mud"

She always said this when she returned from the swamps. She never complained of the biting insects, or the smell, or the back-breaking rocks she had moved, or all the magic she had to expend. It was only the mud that she would grumble about.

And Regina would make soothing sounds, and kiss Mal, uncaring of who could see them. She kissed her now, her mouth soft against Mal's stiff lips. Regina kept her kisses gentle and soothing until she felt the tension go out of Mal's body, felt her mouth soften and part. Then suddenly Mal would take control, pulling Regina more closely to her, deepening their kisses until it did matter who could see them. Then Regina would pull back, her eyes dark and her breath panting, and Mal would growl at being thwarted.

Everyone knew to leave them alone when they were like this. The children, still fascinated by Mal, would want to run to her as soon as she appeared. Their mothers would grab at their arms before they could, and scold them, and set them back to work. In a few minutes, when Mal had relaxed enough to kneel in the dirt besides Regina, then it would be time for the children to go to their friend.

"Is everything alright?" Regina asked. She knew how much of an effort Mal was making when she'd agreed to help with all the projects Regina had outlined, projects designed to improve the lot of the villagers.

When she had first explained her plans, Mal had been perplexed.

"Why do we need to create farms and build roads and dams? The villagers have managed perfectly well without them before now."

"But these things will make their lives easier, Mal. Less dangerous and uncomfortable."

"Why is that our concern?"

"Because-" and Regina had paused, because she didn't have a good explanation. She had grown up following her father's example. He had been a distracted parent, and perhaps he didn't understand his daughter as well as he should have, but his heart was good. He did care for his vassals and tenants, and had done what he could to help them travel a smooth path through life. His lands hadn't been the wealthiest, and he had spent more time hunting than governing, but his people had been unusually happy and healthy - especially as compared to the subjects of the neighbouring realms. Regina had always known that taking care of your lands and people was a responsibility that came with the position of power. She had never had to explain or justify it before. But now she was faced with a dragon, for whom this was an alien concept.

"Because these are your lands, and the people who live here fall under your care." It was as simple as that as far as Regina was concerned. There should not need to be more explanation than that.

Mal had frowned. "But, they choose to live here. And I permit them to live here untroubled - I do not demand taxes or tithes - what more can they expect from me?"

"It's just the way things should be!" Regina had said. "If you are more powerful, you look after the weaker ones!"

"I can understand helping them in an emergency, Regina. But these ... schools and healing centres? Why should I bother with those? Especially for humans who a few weeks ago would have gladly seen me quartered and burned!"

"The schools and healing centres will help the children." Almost unwittingly, Regina had played a trump card. She knew that Mal enjoyed the company of the village children, but she did not realise how deeply Mal had been affected by their easy acceptance of the dragon and how much pleasure they took in spending time with her.

"Are you going to tell me that roads and dams and ... all these other things - these will make the children's lives better too?"

"Of course." Regina's enthusiasm was infectious, and as she explained how better drainage and improved food stocks would help keep the children healthy, and how better roads and buildings would keep them safe, Mal had found herself beginning to fall in line with Regina's vision.

"Before you're done, you'll have turned my territory into a realm," she’d growled. But Mal was not entirely displeased with the idea. It would allow Regina to be in her element, and Mal was more than willing to throw all her support behind that goal. And if it meant she spent a few weeks up to her haunches in mud, battling mosquitoes and the stench of half-rotted vegetation, at least she got to come home to Regina's arms and her kisses.

She stole one of those kisses now before she responded. “Everything is going as planned. Today was difficult though, so we stopped early.”

Mal sounded tired, and her shoulders were slumped, but her tasks for the day were not over yet. Regina looked over to where a group of eager children were being barely held in check by their mothers.

“Do you want to go inside?”

Mal followed her gaze and grinned ruefully. “No, I can spare a few minutes. I promised Arthur and Maggie I’d let them teach me to play quoits.”

Regina laughed. “Be gentle with them Mal.”

Mal rumbled with quiet amusement, then leaned down to kiss Regina’s cheek, her mouth close to Regina’s ear.

“The sooner I beat them, the sooner I can take you to bed,” she whispered, and growled when she felt Regina shiver.

“It’ll be faster if we work together,” Regina said decisively, grabbed Mal’s hand and led her to the waiting children.

They won the game, but it was a close thing. Mal’s back and shoulders were stiff, her muscles sore with being overworked, and Regina had been too distracted by her concern over Mal’s pain to pay attention to how well she threw the rings. But they had emerged victorious, and the children had run off back to their mothers filled with tales of how they had so nearly bested the dragon and the lady.

Regina took Mal back to their chambers at the top of the keep, and made her climb into the tub of hot water. She sat behind her and pulsed warming magic into her shoulders and back until Mal’s groans grew deep and primal and her eyes glowed yellow, and she laid Regina out on the rug so she could put her newly-healed muscles to work making her writhe and moan beneath her. When Mal lifted Regina and carried her to bed, her movements were smooth and easy again.

Her anxiety about Mal’s health somewhat eased, Regina sighed as she wrapped her arms around Mal’s warm body.

“I should feed you, but I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

“Or I could go hunting. The deer are growing soft and lazy. Like me.”

Regina giggled, kissed her, and whispered. “Don’t you dare move from this bed.”

She ‘ported to the kitchens, remembering to hastily magic up a robe just as she was materialising. The cooks had grown accustomed to Regina and Mal’s sudden appearances and barely flinched anymore when either of them magically appeared in the kitchens. The castle rooms were busy, unlike when Regina first came to the lair. Many more people lived in and around the lair now. The winter had been hard on both Haymo’s and Terric’s people, and despite their best efforts, sharing the space and resources of one village between them had been difficult. Mal and Regina had continued to provide food from the lair’s stocks, and it had been easier for some people to move closer to the castle to help distribute goods and carry messages back and forth between the lair and the villages in the forest. A small settlement had sprung up just outside the protective spells around the castle, and Ralf had taken over the task of overseeing this group.

It seemed that for every person who moved into the settlement, three more were needed to help provide for them, and soon the settlement had grown to include smiths and wood workers, weavers and cooks, and, most popularly, an ale-brewer who set up a small tavern that was soon doing a roaring trade. Soon after the tavern started serving customers, Mal had made Ralf form up a group of guards; their primary duties were to stop drunken customers from keeping everyone awake with their loud, off-key, singing, but Ralf still made sure his guardsmen and guardswomen were trained the way he had been when he’d been a young recruit. By springtime, when Regina and her band of volunteers had begun tilling the land and planting the new crops, the settlement had evolved into a small village, about a hundred people strong, many of who now lived, worked, or at least took their meals in the castle.

It had been strange at first for Mal, as she had never thought to share her lair with so many people. But they had developed a system where Ralf and the other villagers could use the guardhouse at the gates and one of the two lesser towers, while the keep and second tower, where their chambers and the Library were housed, were only for Mal and Regina. With all the work they were doing, they spent so little time in the castle that Mal did not consider it an imposition to give up half her lair to the villagers’ use. Besides, it made Regina happy, Rocinante had company in the stables now, and Mal hadn’t had to help chop vegetables or wash dishes for months. She considered that more than adequate compensation for giving parts of her lair over to the villagers and adjusting her warding spells to seal off only the keep, trusting Ralf and his guards to keep the walls and gates secured.

When Regina rematerialised in their room, laden down with a tray of food and drink, she found Mal reclining against a pile of cushions, a predatory look in her eyes.

“You’ve been gone a long time. I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

“The boar wasn’t done roasting yet so-“

She broke off in a squeal as Mal pounced at her.

“It’s not food I hunger for, Regina,” she growled and dragged her towards the bed.

“Maleficent! If you make me drop this tray-!”

But the dragon’s eyes were already glowing yellow and her mouth had closed over the racing pulse point on Regina’s neck, her teeth and tongue moving urgently against her lover’s skin. If it hadn’t been for some quick thinking on Regina’s part, their dinner would have ended up all over the floor. She cast a hasty spell that sent the tray to rest on a nearby table and then surrendered to Mal’s insistent pull.

Once she had them a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, Mal’s touch turned unexpectedly gentle, her eyes so soft and caring as she caressed her, that Regina found herself on the verge of tears even as the pleasure seared through her body. She buried her face in Mal’s neck, burrowing into her body as though she were seeking safety; her body shook as she drew gulping breaths, but Mal’s arms were firm around her and she rubbed her back and sides soothingly until the shaking eased.

“No tears, _Llamita_ , remember?” Her voice was light and teasing.

Regina moved her head so she could look at her.

“What’s wrong Mal? Something is bothering you – I feel it in your touch.”

“It’s nothing. Really.” She saw Regina frown and sighed. “A feeling. That is all. Today, in the swamps, I couldn’t stop feeling that I needed to be here, in the lair. With you.”

“Has something happened? To make you concerned?”

Several months had passed since Mal escaped him, and their lives had changed so much, but Stefan was never far from their minds. He lurked in the shadows of their thoughts; an axe they could not trust would not fall.

“No. We’ve heard nothing. Seen nothing. But this feeling persists. I’ll fly in the morning, keep an eye on things from the air. I’ll have Ralf send patrols further afield. But until we find out more, I’ll stay here. Saer’s people can manage the work in the swamps without me for a while.”

“You’ll need your strength then,” Regina said, deliberately banishing the worry from her voice. She called the tray to her with magic and released the spell that kept the meat as hot as if it had just been carved off the spitted boar.

They stayed in their bed, wrapped up in each other, and caught up on the events of the day they had spent apart. Mal told stories that made Regina laugh – how young Jop had sunk up to his neck in mud so viscous that when they finally managed to pull him out, he was so thickly covered in it that he hadn’t realised he’d lost not only his boots to the sucking mud, but his trousers too. Mal had ‘ported him home, but her aim had been so thrown off by laughter, that he’d fetched up a mile from his door and had to run the rest of the way, hoping that he didn’t meet anyone else, and that he made it home before the mud dried and flaked off. Regina’s stories were less humourous, but left Mal smiling fondly at the pride with which Regina spoke about everything her people were accomplishing.

When they’d eaten, and were both satisfied that the other was no longer focusing on Mal’s instinctual disquiet, Regina said, “We don’t have to read tonight, if you’d rather rest.”

Mal shook her head with obviously fake sternness. She knew how much Regina enjoyed this part of their evenings. “You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

Regina called a book to her from its regular resting place on a lectern in the Library. This was one of the largest tomes in the collection, easily three feet long and bound in heavy leather with brass buckles to hold it together. The paper was rich and creamy, every page handwritten in deep purple ink, or covered with intricate illustrations. The Library contained books written in many different languages, but this one was particularly special. It was the only book in the collection written in the language of dragons. It was a history, a collection of stories of famous dragons and important events that had shaped dragon society and life. It was so rare because dragons did not tend to write things down; their stories were told and passed down from parent to child, recounted in lairs around the worlds, and protected by the dragons’ memories and long lives. But a few hundred years ago, one intrepid dragon had decided to collect these stories and trap them in the pages of a book. 

Mal had been teaching Regina to read the dragons’ language. She could never speak it, because a human throat and tongue were incapable of forming the guttural and sibilant sounds, but she could learn to read it. She would be the first human in twenty generations to have this skill; but that was not why she studied so diligently. Regina was fascinated by the idea of dragons, and wanted to learn everything she could about them. Mal had shown her several books and left her to read them in her own time. But this one, this one they read together. Every evening, either curled up before a roaring fire or laying in bed as they were now, Regina would call the book from the Library and Mal would take it from her, managing the size and weight of it, and hold the book so that Regina could nestle between her arms and read. It had been slow going at first, and Mal had done much of the initial reading, but even though she wasn’t quite fluent yet, Regina had come far enough in her lessons now that she only needed the occasional prompting from Mal. 

Regina turned the pages to where they had left off the night before, traced her finger under the strangely formed letters and said hesitantly, “Zen..o…bia?”

Mal smiled. “Very good. Zenobia. One of my favourites.”

“Oh?”

“First and mightiest of dragons,” Mal said. “She lived a long time ago.”

“But I thought the first dragon was Drakon?” Regina said, recalling one of the early stories they had read, about a human woman who had made a bargain with the Fates - her soul in exchange for a child. The Fates had granted her a son, but when he had grown into manhood, he had transformed into a terrifying scaled and winged creature who breathed fire. Drakon had flown away and his mother had never seen him again, her soul forfeited in exchange for a handful of years of motherhood. The Fates liked the effect of Drakon so well that they cursed others in the same way - granting unsuspecting men and women the boon of children who would grow up to be monsters. 

“Drakon was the first of my kind,” Mal explained. “But Zenobia was the first of us in so many other ways. The first to fly to the moon. The first to take a mate. The first to best the Fates and break their curse.”

“Is that why we don’t hear of human babies transforming into dragons any more?”

“Yes. Because Zenobia fought the Fates and won. They taunt and torment us whenever they can, but she took their ability to control us as they once did.”

Regina turned back to the book, eager to learn more about the dragon that made Mal sound like an awestruck child talking about her hero. She sounded out the words in her head before she spoke “This isn’t about her battle with the Fates. This is about her final battle?” she said hesitantly, unsure if she had translated accurately.

“Yes, the last battle she fought before she and her mate went traveling between the worlds. It’s one of dragonkind’s most enduring love stories. Zenobia’s enemies sent three armies against her. They captured her mate and tortured him, hoping to drive her mad. They tore the wings from her children and carried them instead of flags into battle.”

“That doesn’t sound much like a love story.”

Mal grinned. “Nothing is ever as it seems with Zenobia. Read the story. You will see.”

 

Mal was in the skies with the dawn, making a wide sweep around the castle, but she noticed nothing untoward. She’d returned to the lair by midmorning, and found Regina working in the fields. 

“Can they spare you?” she asked. “We can use this time to work on your training.”

Regina nodded eagerly; she thrilled with every new discovery she made about magic, like the stasis spell she could use to keep food hot or cold, or the sleeping spell that allowed her to put a suffering patient into a sleep so deep they didn’t feel the pain anymore, and the healers could concentrate on setting bones or whatever else was needed. Today however Mal seemed more interested in teaching her defensive magic. 

They started inside the lair, in a long hallway in the second tower. No one ever came in here unless they were accompanying Mal or Regina, so they could use their magic with little fear of hurting anyone else. Mal was teaching Regina to deflect fireballs today, and this hallway was an ideal place for their lesson; it was an empty corridor, with no furniture or draperies, just a few large mirrors and paintings hanging on the walls, which Mal cast a fireproofing spell over. 

Mal taught Regina how to sense when a fireball was approaching her, and how to send her magic out like a thrusting shield to push the attack away. Regina’s reflexes, although honed by years of hunting with her father’s men, were pushed to the limit. But Mal kept telling her how well she was doing, and kept sending more and more fireballs at her. When deflecting one such flurry, one of the fireballs ricocheted off a frame and hit a large mirror directly behind Mal. To Regina’s horror, the fireball hit with enough force to dislodge the heavy mirror from the wall, and it started to topple forwards.

Regina shouted a warning and instinctively ‘ported across the room, threw her arms around Mal and ‘ported them both away before the mirror could strike them. They ended up on the floor, with Regina on her back and Mal’s full weight pressing against her body. There was a resounding crash as the mirror hit the floor. Regina wrapped her arms tighter around Mal.

“Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Mal assured her, struggling to her feet so she could help Regina stand too. “That was most impressive, Regina.”

Regina looked mournfully at where the mirror lay, shattered on the ground.

“I should have stopped the mirror from falling instead. I’m sorry, Mal. It’s completely destroyed.”

“It’s just a mirror, Regina. And your first thought was to protect me. You can’t expect me to fault you for that?”

Regina smiled shyly and reached up so she could press a quick kiss to Mal’s mouth. 

“I suppose not. Still. I’m sorry about the mirror. I hope it wasn’t important?”

Mal shrugged. “It’s a magical mirror, but it uses a grim magic to work. Part of me is glad it’s destroyed.”

“I’ll clean up the mess.”

“ _We’ll_ clean up,” Mal said pointedly. 

They started to pick up the shards of glass when suddenly Regina gasped and dropped the piece she had been holding. Blood welled up from her fingertips and Mal rushed forward to examine her wound; she pulsed healing magic into Regina’s hands, drawing out the splinters that had embedded into her skin, and closing the small cuts.

“I’ll fetch us some gloves,” Mal said.

“I’ll be more careful.” 

Regina bent to pick up some more glass while Mal was calling the gloves to them. Her hand had closed over the large piece she had cut herself on when she wondered what magical properties this mirror had held. She started to ask the question. 

“Mal-”

The piece of glass in her hand turned milky, swirls of greyish smoke started swirling across the surface, and when they cleared, she was looking down at Mal’s face. But that was impossible. Mal was five or six steps away, nowhere near enough to be reflected in the mirror shard. 

Regina held the piece out to Mal. 

“What is it doing?”

“Showing you what you asked to see,” Mal said. “This was a mirror of far-sight.”

“But I didn’t ask to see you - I can see you. You’re standing right here!”

“Yes, but you said my name to the mirror.”

Mal took the shard from her and examined it. 

“I didn’t think it would still work after it was broken. Your blood must have reactivated it.”

Regina shuddered. She had read of magic that used blood to bind things together; the thought of it had always left her feeling a little sickened. This was not a magic that she wanted to be part of.

“Is it dangerous?”

Mal looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. This is a very small piece of the whole mirror, and it was only a few drops of blood. I don’t think that would be enough to bind you to anything with any power or force. I’ll gather up the rest of the pieces though, and secure them. Just in case.”

Mal used her magic to sweep all the bits of pieces of glass up into one large pile. She conjured up a heavy wooden box and ‘ported the broken glass into it. With the lid closed and the heavy lock secured, Regina felt a bit easier about what had happened. She knew Mal would find a way to destroy the glass if they had to.

 

They moved their training session outdoors. Mal wanted them to move on from fireballs to less magical weapons.

“I am not shooting an arrow at you!” Regina protested. 

They had attracted a small audience of guards and castle staff who had a few idle minutes to spare. They were standing in the training grounds Ralf had set up in the inner courtyard, amidst the wooden swords and jousting dummies. Mal had walked over to the archery butts, handed Regina a bow and full quiver, and then placed herself in front of one of the targets. She’d ordered Regina to shoot an arrow at her, Regina had refused, and now they were arguing.

“Non magical weapons are different. With the fireballs, you can feel them because they are magic. You can sense the fire itself. But arrows are not magical. You won’t sense them coming at you. You need to feel the intent of the person attacking you.”

“My intent is to not shoot an arrow at you!” Regina said stubbornly.

Mal growled. “You are not going to hurt me!”

“This is an arrow, Mal!”

“You think arrows are more dangerous than fireballs?!”

“You can deflect a fireball! What are you going to do with an arrow? Catch it?!”

“No! Of course not! I’m going to deflect it, just like with a fireball. Only using a different kind of magic to sense the arrow and react to it. Regina, please. Do as I ask.”

“Mal, I can’t. I can’t shoot an arrow at you!”

“I’ll do it!” someone shouted cheerfully from the sidelines, safe in their anonymity. 

Both women turned to glare at their audience. Mal noticed Ralf striding forward, still dusty and travel worn from having just come off patrol. She beckoned him forward.

“Report?”

“The forests around the castle are clear, your honour. But, we did come across a rider. A messenger sent to us from the Upper Reaches. Something’s brewing up there your honor. Something we may want to go take a look at.”

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where worrisome things are happening, and Regina learns a new skill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that balancing out the long wait for an update with an extra long (for me) chapter is an acceptable trade? This story continues to eat at my brain, but life has a nasty habit of getting in the way of writing. :(

When Mal had first met Ralf, in the dark destruction of the cave-in, his heart and courage had reminded her strongly of Regina. She was not ashamed to acknowledge that this had made him her favourite of the adult humans; this affection had developed into trusting Ralf to help keep Regina's nascent realm safe. Ralf had been a soldier from the time he was a young man, and while he had never earned titles, he was confident and sharp-witted; even though he wasn't a headman, the other villagers followed where he led.

It had been an easy choice for Mal to put Ralf in charge of guarding the lair from human intrusion - her magical protections wrapped only around the parts of the castle reserved exclusively for her and Regina's use. Ralf had broadened the scope of his group of guardsmen, setting up regular patrols through the forests and the foothills of Dogstooth mountain, stepping in to mediate disputes between villagers, and generally proving himself to be someone Mal could trust as a liaison between her and the other humans whose lives were now so intimately linked with the lair.

Part of Ralf's usefulness arose from the fact that he had friends scattered throughout the territory, men and women he had known and served with in the past. One of these was a man named Pilton. Ralf and Pilton had been boys together, had been dragged into the service of ambitious lords and kings, and had left to try to rebuild their lives in the ungoverned wilderness of Mal's territory. Pilton had put down his roots at the first hospitable place they had come to after they had struggled across the forests, desert, and scrublands that lay between their old home and Mal's territory. Ralf had kept going until he had fallen in with Terric's people. But Pilton had stayed in the rugged beauty of the Upper Reaches, a land of waterfalls, green valleys, and deep placid lakes.

"Pilton's a headman now," Ralf told Mal and Regina. "The first village you come to when you cross the Red Wall."

"Red wall?" Mal asked in confusion.

"It's what we call the range of hills to the east," Ralf told her. "It's the way many of us came into this territory. An easier crossing than at Dogstooth."

"And what is happening there that Pilton is so concerned about?"

"Pilton's a man of few words," Ralf warned as he handed over a piece of scroll holding a few lines penned in a precise hand. "This is what he sent me."

Regina took the scroll and read aloud.

"Some news that may be of interest to your dragon-" She broke off and glared at Ralf.

He looked slightly embarrassed. Mal gave a snort of laughter, and indicated that Regina should continue reading.

"More people crossing the Red. Something is not right. It's worse than when we came. We may need help."

"That does not sound very urgent," Mal said thoughtfully. "But you think it is?"

Ralf nodded. "Pilton doesn't ask for help lightly. We crossed the Red to get away from the war between Gordias and Leopold. We were losing, but King Gordias refused to yield. He'd have sent us all to our deaths. Pilton and I, a few others, we fled. We found refuge here. We weren't the first. We weren't the last either. Pilton's village has been a welcome post for years now. This is the first time I've heard him sound so worried."

"And you trust him?"

"He's a good man, your honour. I owe him my life several times over. And he owes me his. If he's asking for help, he needs it."

Mal nodded. "Very well. We'll go and see what is to be done. You have an hour to prepare, Ralf."

"I'll ready the horses, your honour."

"No. You think this is urgent. We'll 'port. Choose a few people you can rely on to bring with us. Not more than six mind you. And we'll have to travel light."

Ralf's eyes had widened in surprise, but he nodded. "Yes, your honour."

Ralf strode away towards the guardhouse, and Mal and Regina 'ported up to their rooms. Mal flung herself down upon the bed and watched as Regina neatly folded and packed a few things into a leather satchel. She was mostly bringing vials and bottles of potions.

"You're taking Ralf's fears very seriously."

Mal nodded. "My heart is still unsettled, Regina. Something is brewing, I can feel it. Perhaps this is it."

"Is that why we're only taking guardsmen with us?"

"We can't be sure what's waiting for us at Pilton's village. I want to be prepared."

"I'm wondering what could be worse than the war Gordias lost. I remember one of my tutors trying to teach me about it. How devastated it left his kingdom. His son is still trying to rebuild what's left."

Mal shrugged. "Humans always seem to be at war with each other. Kingdoms rise and fall like the tide."

Regina threw a cushion at her.

Mal laughed, caught the cushion and tucked it under her head. But then her face grew thoughtful.

"You are right though. I do wonder what would drive anyone to seek refuge in a dragon's territory."

Now it was Regina's turn to laugh. "Do you realise how many people have moved here over the years?"

"I noticed the settlements sometimes, when I flew over. But - if they didn't bother me, I left them alone."

"And that's probably why the people kept coming," Regina pointed out reasonably. "You harmed them less than what they were leaving behind. And you disappeared for a while. Alys says she only saw you once, and even that was when she was a small child."

"They were still terrified of me. Even though they hardly saw me." Mal growled.

Regina came over to stand at the foot of the bed. Mal sat up to meet her, and allowed Regina to cup her face in her hands.

"You were an unknown element Mal. Powerful and mysterious, and all they knew of you were stories that made dragons monsters. They feared what they did not know. They know you now."

She leaned forward and kissed Mal's forehead, and when her eyes fluttered shut, placed gentle kisses on her closed lids, and finally a soft kiss to her parted lips.

Mal sighed contentedly under her ministrations. Regina's tenderness soothed her niggling irritation with humans who hated her for so little reason.  

She wrapped her arms around Regina's waist and rested her head against her chest. She felt Regina's hands at the nape of neck, her fingers kneading under the loose braid of her hair.  

Before she lost herself completely to her lover's touch, she asked, "Are you packed?"

"I think so. I'm bringing some healing potions, just in case, but if I need anything else, I can always 'port back here to get it." Her voice tinged with concern, Regina asked, "Will you need my help, to bring Ralf and the others with us?"

"Do you think you're ready?"

"I don't know - I've never 'ported to a place I've not been to before."

Mal straightened so she could look at Regina when she reassured her. "It's possible, if you know where it is in relation to something else. But for today, all you'd need to do is keep hold of me, and 'port with me. I'll pull us forward, you push in the same direction. Let me worry about aiming."

Regina's smile was a bit tremulous, but her voice was firm. "Okay."

"If it becomes a strain, Regina, drop my hand and stop the spell." Mal knew what it felt like when you tried to cast but the power wouldn't come, and you felt the magic bleed from you until the struggle to draw power became a crushing ache. She did not want Regina to think she had to face that with no recourse. "Stop wherever you are. I will find you."

"Okay." She sounded more confident.

"Good. Let's practice."

In a series of short, but increasingly longer, hops, Mal led Regina to spots throughout the lair and into the fields outside until they were both satisfied that Regina could follow Mal in a 'port. They ended up back in their rooms, Regina's face flushed with the exertion of casting and her eyes bright with pleasure.

Mal growled as she looked at her, the sound rising from deep in her belly. Her blue eyes took on a yellow tinge, and she groaned in frustration.

"We'd better leave. Before we start something I won't have time to finish."

 

Ralf and his guardsmen were waiting for them in the outer courtyard. His son Gil was among them; he had recovered from his injuries and had spent the winter training with the other guards, and he had grown strong and sure.

Regina helped Mal 'port the men to their destination - the outskirts of a village set on the banks of a blue lake. The village lay in the bowl of a narrow valley. Hills rose closely in the background, green and sharp, with rushing waterfalls that fed a fast-moving river, which flowed into one side of the lake. The river banks and hills were thickly forested, but the flat lands of the valley were filled with knee high grass.

They had materialised close to some houses, so were quickly noticed. A cry of alarm went up, and they held their ground, waiting until they were approached. Their welcoming party consisted of four large men armed with pitchforks and wooden staves. A stocky bald-headed man with a curly black beard led them. Ralf waved when he saw his old friend.

"We weren't expecting you so soon," Pilton said, once they'd shaken hands and introductions had been made.

"Maleficent and the Lady Regina needed to see this for themselves," Ralf explained.

"I'm grateful for your speed, Ma'am." Pilton said to Mal.

"She prefers 'your honour'," Ralf told him quietly.

Pilton nodded. "This way please, your honour."

Mal sighed. She would prefer no title at all, but Ralf could not bring himself to call her by her name. And the honorific had not only stuck, but spread. There wasn't a villager she'd yet met who hadn't called her 'your honour'. Humans seemed to need to give their leaders titles, to mark them as special in some way. And the more the humans of her territory saw her as a leader, rather than a threat, the harder it was for her to insist they call her simply Maleficent. The dragon had decided it wasn't worth the effort to try to fight it anymore.

Pilton led them past the village and away from the lake. They could see smoke curling up into the sky from behind the rise they were walking towards. As they crested the slope, Mal took in what lay beyond, glanced down at Regina and saw, as she expected, dismay on her face.

"These poor people!" Regina whispered.

On the flat stretch of land before them were gathered a few hundred people. Some of them had managed to construct makeshift shelters out of poles and bits of cloth; the greater majority however huddled together in the open air. Small fires were dotted through the crowd, putting off acrid smoke, and Mal caught the smell of fish roasting; it nearly concealed the stench of blood, sweat and fear that seemed to cling to the miserable gathering.

"We have to help them, Mal!" Regina started forward, but Mal was ready and put a hand on her arm to draw her back.

"Wait Regina. We don't know how safe this is."

" _Look_ at them Mal!"

"Yes, Regina. I see them. They are wretched. That does not mean that they do not harbour something or someone who could harm you."

Regina huffed in frustration, but she stayed where she was.

"Give us some time to be careful, Regina," Mal said, her voice almost pleading. "You see what we're up against here. 'port back to the lair, gather the people and supplies you think we will need. I will follow in a little while, and we will bring everything and everyone you have selected here."

Regina considered her words, then nodded. "Very well. We should try to be back before nightfall."

Mal looked at the sun. It was already low in the sky. "We will do our best."

She waited until Regina had disappeared before saying to Ralf, "When she gets back, she will want to be out there. Helping. She is not to be left on her own. Ever. If any harm comes to her - there will be no mercy."

"Yes your honour. She'll have three men with her at all times. One before her, one behind, one besides." When Mal arched an eyebrow, he continued, "She'll only see the one besides." He clapped his son on the shoulder. "Gil will be with her."

Mal frowned. "I meant it when I said no mercy, Ralf."

"I know, your honour."

She nodded. "Regina is powerful, and strong. But she cares too much for others to worry about her own safety." Her voice carried a trace of a grumble that made Ralf smile.

"Yes, your honour. She won't know she's under guard."

Mal growled. "She'll know. I'll tell her myself. She'll complain. But your men will stay."

"Yes, your honour."

She looked out over the mass of human misery again. No one seemed to be paying them close attention, and while she could make out what looked like uniforms on a few people, she saw no obvious sign of weaponry.

"Sweep the camp," Mal ordered Ralf. "See if you find anyone...objectionable."

She watched as Ralf gave orders and led his guards into the camp. A few people turned to watch the newcomers, but most of them continued with whatever it was they were doing - tending to wounds, roasting fish, talking in hushed voices, or simply staring out into the distance.

Mal turned to Pilton. "When did this start?"

"The first of them arrived a few weeks ago. Just after the first thaws. It's not so unusual, your honour. We see maybe a hundred new people a year. More when there's hard times over that way. But then more followed. And then they started arriving hurt and hungry. Like they had not planned to leave. Like they had simply run out into the night. As though they were chased."

Mal frowned. "Have they said anything?"

"A lot of it makes no sense, your honour. The newest ones, they talk of dark creatures that tried to drag them into hell. Or an army of ravening wolves that go on two legs."

For a man of few words, Pilton had a lot to say. Mal wondered how much he was still keeping from her.

"Have you seen anything like that?"

"No your honour. Wouldn't know what to do about it if I had. Didn't know what to do about these ones either. That's why I sent to you."

"You did the right thing," Mal assured him.

"We tried, your honour. But there's something happening over there. Something evil. I fear there's more to come."

Mal felt her body tense. Pilton's words caused the unsettled feeling in her chest to strengthen, and her heart beat faster. She felt a threat, but she did not know where it came from or how to fight back.

She growled again and thought of Regina.

"I will return to the lair now, but we'll be back. Tell Ralf he has until sundown - although it will likely be sooner if Regina has any say in it, but I'll do my best. I'll bring him reinforcements too."

 

Mal returned to the lair to find that Regina had rallied her own forces. Ten seasoned healers, each accompanied by a youth, had already gathered in the lair's outer courtyard. The youth were kept busy dashing back and forth, gathering supplies and medicines. Several other people were in the kitchens, sorting out food supplies and lining everything up neatly to be 'ported away. Regina stood in the middle of the courtyard, barking out orders and taking notes. She saw Mal materialise, and waved.

"We'll be ready soon."

"Regina, we need to give Ralf and his men some time."

"You saw those people, Mal. They don’t need guards! They need healers and-"

"Regina, let Ralf do his work. I won't let you back there without being sure it's safe."

Regina started to argue, but Mal held up a hand. "Regina, please. I have made no secret of what you mean to me. It wouldn't take much for an enemy to find out. That makes you a target. I can't let you go wandering amongst those people without taking precautions for your safety!"

"You think this influx of refugees has something to do with Stefan."

"I don't know. It may be something else. But I fear that what I can sense is Stefan's interference. If we let Ralf do his job, we may have an answer. And until we know more - it's not safe for you to be there."

This made Regina bristle. "Do you doubt I can take care of myself?"

"I know how capable you are, Regina. But I can't risk anyone hurting or capturing you. I'd do anything to get you back."

Mal spoke calmly, but Regina blanched. She knew the extent to which Mal had been willing to go when she had been in Stefan's soldiers' clutches. Mal hadn't hesitated to transform into the dragon to protect Regina, even though it had hurt her and put her at great risk of being recaptured.

"That's blackmail."

"No. It's the truth. I've told you before Regina, if Stefan's men take you, I will find you. No matter what. I've escaped from them once. I can do it again, if I have to."

"So, better all round if I don't let them take me?" Regina asked bitterly.

"I won't let you come to harm."

"And if you think I am just going to let you go blithely off into harm's way because you want to protect me!"

"Don't give me a reason to."

"That's not _fair_ Mal!"

"Stefan does _not_ play fair!"

They were glaring at each other, nostrils flaring in anger and eyes flashing. Mal had never held out for so long before. They'd had similar disagreements before, but if Regina asked earnestly enough, Mal would capitulate. With bad grace, but still, she'd let Regina have her way. This time though, she wasn't budging. It made Regina realise just how seriously Mal was taking this. The anger went out of her, and her posture relaxed.

"Mal, I can see how worried you are. But I have to do _my_ work."

"And you will, Regina. I promise you. When I know that you will be safe."

Regina sighed. "Very well."

"And you will have guards." The fire lit up in Regina's eyes again, and Mal said quickly, "No. No arguments. You will barely know they are there. But you _will_ have guards."

"Why do I need guards when I have you?"

Mal laughed. "I forget sometimes how crafty you are. But not this time, Regina. Remember, I may not always be with you."

Regina frowned; she was uncomfortable with the implications of such an absence, particularly in the light of Mal’s disquiet. But she was called away by one of the healers before she could say anything further.

Mal watched Regina work for a while, then went in search of the men and women she knew Ralf would want at his side; she sought out the quiet hunters, the ones who knew how to look and how to listen, who knew how to anticipate rather than follow their prey.

 

Twilight had fallen when Mal allowed them to return to the Upper Reaches; she and Regina 'porting the people and supplies in batches between them. When everyone and everything was safely gathered at the edge of the camp, Ralf came up to greet them.

He nodded to Mal and said quietly, "Mostly secure, your honour. Nothing I'd make too much of a fuss over."

Regina and her team of healers and assistants went into action - Regina had already chosen an area of flat ground, further back from the lake, where she asked Mal to cast shelters. Ralf's guards had identified those most in need of medical aid, and started helping carry them up to the tents. Others laid out the food that had been brought from the lair, organising queues and distribution lines. As the sky darkened, Mal walked through the site, creating fire glasses set on poles she anchored in the ground. Her presence and use of magic caused a few people to draw back in fear, but most of the refugees were too exhausted and hungry to pay much attention to the dragon in their midst.

There was some confusion and chaos at the start, and Ralf and his guards had to step in to help keep things in order, but soon enough people settled into the process. Mal had withdrawn and stood on the rise, watching over everything. She noted Gil, now Regina's shadow, and the two other men who never strayed far from Regina's presence. Gil had the common sense to be helpful to Regina, the time he'd spent in the healing house having given him an insight into what she'd need. Her two other guards were unobtrusive but alert. Ralf had chosen well.

She went to Ralf, where he was watching over the food distribution lines.

"Walk with me."

She led him to a spot where they could speak without being overheard. "I want to see where they have been crossing over," she said.

He nodded. "Most of them on foot, through the forest. A few by river, on rafts or boats."

She 'ported them to where the one road - although it was more a track than a road - led through the hilly forest into her lands. She cast a web of light overhead so they could both see what they were facing. The trees grew thickly here, creating a natural barrier between her territory and the lands beyond. But the forest was not impassable, not to anyone who was motivated enough to try.

"Easy enough not to use the road?" she asked

Ralf nodded. "Yes, your honour. You'd get scratched up a bit, but it's not impossible."

Mal sighed.

"Perhaps you could..." he waved his hands vaguely, "...create a wall of thorns, or similar?"

She looked thoughtful, but shook her head. "No. Do you want to be the one to tell Regina that we made it impossible for people seeking help to reach us?"

Ralf sighed.

Mal made a decision. She took a few minutes to draw up her power; the spell she was considering would have to be a fairly large and complex one. She muttered an incantation under her breath, using the sibilant dragon tongue. Ralf took a sudden step back, feeling the power flowing off her; it was heavy and made his skin crawl. Mal gestured and magic flowed from her fingers, spreading out into a dark grey cloud that covered the forest and hills for miles. As Mal continued hissing her chant, the cloud dissolved into mist and seemed to fall on the forest like rain, until it was absorbed into the leaves and soil, leaving no visible trace. Nothing seemed to have changed. Ralf looked at Mal for an explanation.

"I've made it so that anyone who enters this forest meaning to do us harm will find themselves hopelessly lost." She smiled cruelly. "They'll wander forever, until they starve."

"You can do that? Make a spell that can read someone's heart?"

Mal shrugged. "The intent to harm rests close to the surface. It's not difficult to sniff out, in most circumstances."

"If you do that all around our borders, we'll not have to worry about anyone invading."

Mal sighed. "Unfortunately, any semi-competent user of magic can mask intent. This is only a stop-gap measure."

There was no point saying anything further. Mal knew that if Stefan planned to invade, a magical barrier would not keep him out, not while he had Rumplestiltskin on a leash.

After Mal had repeated her spell along the river, sending the dark cloud up along the river course for several miles, they returned to Pilton's village. Mal entered the healer’s tent and used her magic where it was needed. It was late before she and Regina had finished dealing with the life-threatening injuries. The camp was already settling into some sort of routine; Regina's healers had worked out shifts between them, Ralf's people were patrolling between the tents, Mal dimmed the fire glasses so that there was enough light to see by but not so much that it interfered with sleep.

Pilton and Ralf sought Mal out so they could make their report.

"600 souls," Pilton told her.

"And more coming behind," Ralf said. "If what they've told us is anything to go by, we can expect hundreds more."

"We've got all sorts," Pilton continued. "Entire villages in some cases. These people have lost everything."

"We'll need better shelters than tents," Ralf said. "There's babies and small children who won't do well with many more nights in the open."

"My village can't take them all in," Pilton said. His voice was sad.

"You won't have to," Mal promised.

"They'll need more than shelter too," Ralf pointed out grimly. "600 stomachs will take some feeding."

"Regina will know what plants are growing well back at the lair. We can...speed things up a bit. You could have a harvest in a few days."

"The lake's well stocked, and there's wild sheep in these hills. We raise a few herds, but we’ll bring a few more in." Pilton added.

"We can set up supply lines," Ralf said, his voice thoughtful as he considered their options. "Start some planting here, set up pens for the sheep - some of these people are well enough to help."

Mal nodded. "Yes. Good. I'm sure Regina will have a few ideas too."

Thinking of her made Mal look to find her.

Regina had settled the last of her patients and was standing outside the healer’s tent, watching Mal and the two men talk. Her body was slumped in exhaustion. Gil was just behind her, sitting on a low stool. Mal could see Regina's other guards lurking in the shadows.

She said goodnight to Ralf and Pilton, knowing she'd left the security of the camp in good hands, and made her way over to Regina. She nodded at Gil and said, "Get some sleep." She waited until the three men moved away before turning her focus on Regina, who smiled wanly up at her.

"Is everything alright?"

Mal nodded. "We can talk about plans in the morning."

She saw the tiredness and traces of fear in Regina's face and she reached out for her, but stopped before she followed her instinct, which was to pull Regina into a hug, or sweep her up into her arms. Regina already had a target painted on her back; there was no reason to make it any larger.

"Let's go home." Mal said. "You need to rest."

"Home?"

"To the lair."

"We can't leave!"

"There's nothing more for you to do here tonight, Regina. We will come back in the morning."

"No, Mal. What if something happens in the night and they need us?"

Mal sighed. She called to Ralf and Pilton, catching them before they entered their tents for the night.

"We will be on the other side of the lake," she told them. "If we're needed, call for me."

"We have a warning drum," Pilton said. "We use it to call the children in from the fields, if there's a storm. Or bear."

"Good. Beat the drum, if you need us. But _only_ if you need us."

"Understood."

 

Mal 'ported them away. The lake was narrow here, so the other shore wasn't that far away. But it was far enough that they couldn't hear the villagers or the refugees, could only see the lights across the water.

Mal cast them a shelter - a small cabin really, with one big room. She'd given them a bed, a table and comfortable chairs, a fireplace, and, something that made Regina smile to see it - a large tub of hot scented water. There was nothing Mal liked better at the end of a long day than a soak in their tub, and she wasn't willing to give that up tonight just because they were hundreds of miles from the lair.

Regina had to admit it was soothing to sit up to her neck in water, with Mal's arms wrapped around her, and let the heat soak into tired muscles. She felt her spirits lift, giving her the energy to talk about some of the things she'd learned from her patients.

"There's been a war."

"Hmm."

"Someone is using a very dark magic."

"Yes, it seems that way."

"They think Stefan is trying to save them."

"I know."

"They're wrong, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"They've had horrible things done to them, Mal. They've seen terrible things."

"I know."

"We have to help them."

"We will, Regina."

 

Mal called some food to them. It was simple fare - some roasted wild sheep and rounds of coarse rye bread, and a thin sharp ale, all supplied from Pilton's village. While they ate, Mal tried to answer Regina's questions about the geography of their territory. She was eager to learn more about it now that she realised she could ‘port to new places if she had the knowledge of the lay of the land. Regina knew the land around their lair very well, an area that took in the Dogstooth range and the swamplands that Saer's people called home. But the rest of the territory was still a mystery to her, and she had many questions - from why Pilton's region was known as the Upper Reaches to how long it would take to walk from one end of the territory to the other.

Eventually Mal simply magicked up a model so she could show Regina what their land looked like.

"Here, our northern borders are marked by the Dogstooth range - and just beyond, see, the Grey Desert. You remember that."

Regina shuddered. They had crossed that desert when Rumplestiltskin's spell had been crushing the very life from Mal's heart.

"Further east, the desert turns into scrublands. That's where the Red Wall starts. We are just south of it now. I always loved flying among those hills - it's beautiful country, but rugged. The land looks like it’s been gouged by a giant with claws."

"More mountains at our southern borders? I can see why you picked this for your territory. We're defended all round."

Mal grinned. "Yes. I thought it would be difficult to get to, for anyone who can't fly. I thought I'd be alone here. You can see how well that worked out."

That made Regina laugh and kiss her.

"What's this"? Regina tapped a blue expanse that banded their eastern border.

"The sea."

"Oh. I've never seen the sea."

Mal's eyes darkened suddenly, and she growled, low and almost angrily. "I meant to show you the world, Regina. Once I had healed."

"We got a little sidetracked." Regina reminded her softly. "And it's a big world. You've already given me more of it than I even realised existed."

"That's not good enough," Mal growled. "You deserve so much more."

"We have time, Mal. The world's not going anywhere. And we're needed here right now."

Mal's eyes remained downcast and she still looked so disappointed with herself that Regina drew her to her and kissed her softly.

"No ocean could ever compare to seeing you transform, Mal. To watching you spread your wings and fly. You gave me magic, Mal. And you gave me you. I want nothing else."

Regina expected Mal to respond with heat; any declaration of how strongly she felt usually ended with Mal marking out her own passion on Regina's naked and willing body. But this time Mal's response was to sigh and curl towards Regina, as though in surrender.

Regina took her dragon to bed, wrapped her arms around her and stroked her hair and the strong muscles of her back and arms. Mal tucked her head under Regina's chin, her cheek pressed to Regina's chest where she could hear the steady beat of her heart.

"I don't need more than this," Regina whispered.

It seemed that was finally reassurance enough for Mal, and she slipped into sleep.

 

Regina woke to find watery sunlight filtering into their room and Mal propped up on an elbow, watching her sleep. She was smiling softly and Regina reached out for her so she could claim a kiss.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Mal nodded. “I am sorry, for yesterday. I was tired. And this fear…not knowing what to fight - it makes me feel weak.”

“It’s okay to be weak,” Regina said, her voice teasing. “I like being the one who gets to hold you and tell you everything will be fine.”

Mal snorted. “A weak dragon doesn’t keep her lair very long.”

“You’re not weak. Our lair is safe.”

Mal growled and moved so that she straddled Regina, leaned down and kissed her.

 _“You’re_ safe too,” she said fiercely.

Regina’s fingers tangled in Mal’s hair and she pulled her closer, deepening their kiss until Mal’s eyes glowed yellow and her hands were tearing at the lacings of Regina’s tunic.

A drum boomed out, echoing across the water. Mal stilled her hands and groaned.

“You did say, only if we were needed,” Regina panted.

“Yes, yes, fine.” Mal grumbled, rolling off Regina and changing her clothing with a wave of her hand. “I’ll go see what’s happening. I’ll come get you if you’re needed.”

“But-“

“Rest while you can,” Mal said firmly, pausing only long enough to kiss her one more time, before ‘porting away.

 

More refugees had made it to camp, a small family of three – a woman and her two grown sons. One of the men had been torn open, the skin hanging off his back in bloody strips, and three deep gouges that ran red-raw across his belly, leaking foul-smelling fluids. He lay on his side, shivering and moaning on a pallet in the healing tent. His mother sat besides him rocking back and forth as she wailed quietly to herself. His brother stood at her back, his hands on his mother's shoulders, and his eyes darting wildly whenever anyone approached his family.

"They just came in," Pilton started speaking as soon a guard led Mal into the tent. "Dragging him behind them. Amazed they made it this far."

Mal examined the injured man for a few moments, and waved her hand over him. His shivering stopped and he quieted.

"I've bought us a little time," Mal said, "But I will have to release the spell soon. Quickly - tell me what has happened."

"It was only two nights ago," the unhurt brother spoke. "They were on us in the night. Leon saw them first, he tried to defend us. He only had a log from the fire, but he tried. That's what they did to him."

His mother's wail grew shriller.

"Take her outside," Mal ordered, but not unkindly. "It does her no good to be here."

"They followed us," the man kept speaking, seemingly not noticing when his mother was led away by a healer. "We could hear them, cackling in the trees behind us. Then a few miles away, they just...stopped."

"Your protections held," Pilton said quietly.

Mal nodded, but her attention was on the injured Leon. She was leaning over him and sniffing his body.

"What did they look like, your attackers?" she asked his brother.

"I don't know! It was dark, they were so quick. I saw teeth, claws, long fingers, covered with fur...it was madness."

He started to sob, and at Mal's curt nod Pilton got another healer to take him away to join his mother.

Mal touched a finger to the blood that had soaked through the pallet and sniffed that too. Her face twisted in disgust.

"Sound the drum," she said to Pilton. "Bring Regina here."

He strode from the tent, and Mal heard the drum again. A few minutes later Pilton led Regina in. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the injured man, and she lifted her hands to call forth her magic, ready to heal.

"We'll have to do this together," Mal said.

"What do you want me to do?"

"There is an infection in his blood that I have to heal, or we will lose him. But his wounds are severe, and he may not survive what I have to do. So, you heal his wounds, I'll take care of the infection. Are you ready?"

Regina stared at her, a hundred questions obviously on the tip of her tongue, but she nodded. "Ready."

"Now."

The stasis spell Mal had placed on him dropped, and Leon started shivering and moaning again. Regina extended her hands and a pale purple light glowed out of them, covering Leon's body, and his torn flesh started to knit together.

As Regina healed the damage of his visible wounds, Maleficent stood on the other side of the pallet from her, chanting under her breath. She held her hands out over Leon's body, fingers curled as though she were drawing something out. A grey haze seemed to wrap around him and he twisted and howled in agony. This went on for long minutes as his body tried to fight back against their magic. Whatever Mal was doing, part of Leon's body wanted none of it.

But Mal was strong, and persistent, and she kept chasing after whatever it was that was burning through Leon's veins.

At last the grey haze dissipated and he slumped back, no longer shivering. Regina had closed the tears in his flesh, and with the easing of the pain, his moans quieted.

"Well done," Mal said, her voice warm with pride.

Regina flushed and smiled back at her, and for a moment they allowed themselves to feel pleased with what they had accomplished. Then Regina looked down at their patient.

"Is he going to be alright?"

Mal nodded. "He'll need a healer's care still. But his life is no longer at risk."

"What was that? What happened to him?"

Mal shook her head, "It's not something I've seen before." She was troubled by this - that there was yet another threat that she did not understand or have answers for. "It was...familiar though."

She shook her head again, and led Regina out of the tent to find a quiet place where they could speak uninterrupted. Around them the camp was bustling; the atmosphere was already so different than the day before, with less of a feeling of despair and hopelessness. Some men and women were already out on the lake, throwing nets into the water to haul in a catch of fish. Another group were washing and hanging clothes, and beating out bedding. The guards from the lair and some of Pilton's men were moving between the tents, talking to people and bringing food to those who were still too weak or ill to make it to the food distribution lines. Children were running and playing in the green grass, their voices lifted with laughter.

"It's working," Regina said quietly. "We're helping."

"We both know what a difference a good night's sleep and a hot meal can make." Mal said drily.

"It's a start," Regina said. "I have some plans, for what else we can do."

Mal smiled. "I’m sure you do, my dear. But, some of the stories I heard yesterday. The attack on this family. It makes me think that there is a threat close to our borders. Not Stefan though. Something else. But the stories don't quite add up. The infection we just healed - it shouldn't be that way. It's been twisted, tainted with a dark magic. And I don't understand it!" She growled in frustration.

Regina's brow furrowed with confusion.

"Mal, you're not making sense."

"I know!" she growled. "None of it makes sense. I am going to have to look into this, Regina."

"What exactly do you mean by 'look into'?" she asked suspiciously.

Mal glanced down at her, trying to hide any sign of guilt or guile.

"Oh, nothing too strenuous. I was just going to fly along our northern border, maybe take a look over the scrublands."

"I see."

"It's probably nothing."

"Right. And you're planning on going alone?"

Her tone was far too mild, and Mal sighed. She should have known better than to try to keep Regina from worrying.

"I'll be fine, Regina. It's an easy flight, and I can stay above any trouble."

"So you are expecting trouble?"

"No. No, not really."

"Well, good. If you're not expecting trouble, you'd have no objections to me going with you."

Mal frowned.

Regina's voice turned suddenly sultry. "It'd be nice, to get away for a bit, just the two of us."

Mal glared at her. Regina looked back at her with an innocently arched eyebrow. And Mal sighed.

"There may be a small chance of trouble," she conceded grudgingly.

"All the more reason for you to have some help."

Mal growled. "I thought you had plans for the camp."

"Mal, let me help you."

Mal sighed and cupped Regina's cheek in her hand.

"I'll never win with you, will I?" she asked wryly.

Regina covered Mal's hand with her own, her face serious.

"Not when it comes to your safety. You're not the only one who worries."

"And here I was thinking the days of you taking care of me were far behind us."

Regina grinned. "Considering how long you've lived, I would think you'd be wiser than that."

Mal stared at her in shock for a beat, and then laughed.

"Fine. You win, _Llamita._ I promised Ralf we'd talk about supply lines this morning, and then we'll go."

"And I wanted to talk to Pilton about building more permanent shelters. And to Berta, to check in on those in the healing tents. And I wanted to speak to Alys about...oh there's so much to do. Can we leave at noon?"

"Leave the shelters to me. I don't want to delay this too long."

After some negotiation and hurried conversations, they had a small group of people to whom they delegated tasks. Berta, a competent healer in her own right, was left in charge of the healing tents, and Alys had been 'ported in from the lair with seedlings and shoots that Mal spelled so they would reach maturity in a few days rather than weeks. Alys would be in charge of seeing to the planting and harvesting, and she had already started marking out the best places for the crops to grow. Mal and Regina cast shelters, much like the cabin Mal had made across the lake, in an area that Pilton chose, with enough room for the newcomers to spread out. Regina’s plans, to create a safe haven for those whose lives had been thrown into chaos, were beginning to take root.

 

It was close to noon when they felt they had done as much as they could to set the camp to rights. Mal and Regina 'ported back to their cabin across the lake and shared a brief meal.

"Where will we 'port to first?" Regina asked as they ate.

Mal shook her head. "I need to see the terrain. We'll fly."

Regina frowned. "But- I can't-"

Mal's arched an eyebrow and smiled teasingly.

Regina crossed her arms and glared. "You are _not_ going alone, Mal. I don't care what-"

"Regina," she cut her off, "You're coming with me. We'll fly."

"But how? Dragon's don't give rides."

"Oh? How do you know that?"

"In one of the books you gave me," Regina reminded her. "It said that no one ever rides a dragon. _A dragon is not a beast of burden_ ," she was obviously quoting. " _Any hunter who thinks that by capturing a dragon, he will have won himself a winged steed, had best be prepared to be left a smoky stain on the ground._ "

"Ah yes. Tybalt the Mad Monk. He had a certain _flair_ with words."

Other than the book of dragon histories, the lair's library held only a few books on magical creatures. Mal had told Regina with some scorn that most human writers made up the bits they weren't sure of. Tybalt however was one writer who she said had captured more truths than lies. And Regina had tried to read the book, even though it had a cover that looked like it was made of dragon scales. She had got about halfway into it, but soon after the section on how impossible it was to tame and train a dragon, Tybalt had started writing about the best ways to trap and kill the creatures. She had turned a page and seen an illustration of a dragon, first in human then in dragon form, tied down and cut open, with 'interesting features' pointed out in Tybalt's careful hand. Regina had flung the book across the room, her mind filled with thoughts of Mal in Stefan's prison. She had been sick to the stomach with the image of it, and had fled the library, leaving the book where it had fallen. She had not picked it up again.

"So, if I can't ride you-"

"Tybalt missed a key point," Mal said dryly. "Dragons can make their own choices. And _you_ are not a burden."

"Oh."

"So, we just need to keep you warm, and figure out a way to keep you from falling off, and we'll be on our way. Okay?"

Regina nodded, then flung her arms around Mal's neck and kissed her. The serious motivation for their trip was being eclipsed by her excitement at getting to fly with Mal.

By the time she had changed her clothing to something more suited to high altitude conditions, Mal had worked out the magic needed to keep Regina comfortable and safe. She'd use a variation of the shielding spell to keep her from being buffeted by winds, and a stability spell to keep Regina firmly in place.

"If we make a habit of this, we may want to consider some sort of saddle and harness," Mal told her. "Magic can sometimes fail."

"You'd let me put a saddle on you?" Regina was horrified.

Mal's smile was slow and slightly menacing. "The saddle will only be to keep you in place."

"I am not going to fall off," Regina said stubbornly.

 

Picking a spot out of sight from the settlement across the lake, Mal transformed, and Regina 'ported the short distance to her back. She materialised straddling Mal's shoulders, instinctively tightening her knees. She felt the stability spell take hold; it was like a giant web had wrapped around her. She could move in any direction she wanted, but she could feel the spell move with her.

"Ready." She said to Mal once she was settled, and with a powerful beating of wings, Mal took them into the air.

In those first moments when Mal fought for height, Regina's stomach felt like it was falling out of her as Mal jerked and rocked unevenly. But then she was high enough to make use of the winds and air currents, and her movements smoothed out. She was gliding with outstretched wings, the occasional lazily powerful beat keeping them moving back towards the Dogstooth range. Regina could hear the rush of air around them, she could feel Mal's muscles tense and flex beneath her. It was cold, but not unbearably so, and the shielding spell kept the air from being torn from her so she could still breath. She leaned forward and laid her head alongside Mal's long dragon face. She could just about see Mal's eye; she had rolled it back so she could look at Regina. Mal winked and Regina laughed. She hugged her neck as far around as she could reach and kissed her scaly face. She heard Mal growl, felt the rumblings all through Mal's body. So she kissed her again, then straightened up so she could look around.

The earth was so far beneath them that the trees were mere specks and the river looked like a brown line drawn across a green page. There were clouds beneath them! Regina twisted around so she could look for the settlement by the lake, and marvel at how tiny it looked as it disappeared into the distance behind them.

There was no room in her for fear. She was in the sky, with Mal; all she felt was excitement and joy.

They tracked back and forth, meandering along as Mal searched for signs - of what exactly Regina wasn't sure. But whatever it was she was searching for, she doubted Mal found it. Sometimes she'd swoop low to the ground, her belly just skimming the treetops, but she never landed or turned back or gave any other indication that she had seen something of interest.

When Mal finally brought them to ground, they were high in the mountains. Whether by accident or design, she had chosen to land at a perfect spot to look out over her territory. When Mal had touched down, Regina 'ported off her back, and Mal transformed back into human form. She stood for a moment gazing out over her lands, so was taken by surprise when Regina hugged her tightly, pinning her arms to her sides.

"That was _incredible!"_

Mal rumbled with laughter. "You weren't cold?" She glanced down at Regina and her breath hitched. Regina's eyes were shining, her pupils wide with excitement; her lips were parted and Mal could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She felt her desire flare in response. She couldn't help but reach down and kiss her. Regina kissed her back, hungrily, wrapping her body around Mal. Mal growled. With her arms pinned she couldn't do what she wanted to - which was to pick Regina up off her feet and find something to press her up against so she could have her way with her. But Regina kept a firm hold, and all Mal could do was growl as Regina plundered her mouth with feverish intensity.

Then Regina gave Mal a tiny opening, easing the tightness of her grip just slightly, and Mal pounced. She pulled free of Regina's hold and swept her up into her arms. She did not want to lay Regina down where they stood – it was too rocky and muddy - and a blanket on the ground would be too prosaic. If Regina's first flight had left her this intoxicated, it deserved to be celebrated properly. So as she held a protesting Regina against her chest, Mal conjured up a tented pavilion, with curtains that billowed in the bracing breeze; a firepit warmed the interior, the red flames putting out heat but no smoke. The pavilion contained a large bed, covered with silk, which faced the view she had been admiring. She carried Regina under the shelter and laid her on the bed. She started to kiss her, first her mouth, then along her jawline, pausing to nip and lick at her ear, before descending along her neck. Regina arched beneath her, moaning with each successive kiss and lick and bite. But when Mal returned to her mouth, Regina stopped her, holding her face still between her hands. She gazed into desire-yellowed eyes and whispered, "Let me, Mal."

Mal growled her objection, so Regina said "Please."

 

The memory of Mal’s need for comfort was still on her mind. It saddened her that Mal seemed to think she had not given Regina enough, when the truth was Mal gave so freely of herself, of her strength and power, whenever Regina asked it of her. In fact, it had not escaped Regina's notice that Mal often offered herself even before Regina could ask. Like today. Mal had given her the skies, had offered this part of her life that Regina knew gave Mal such peace and pleasure. And she had shared it with Regina, begrudging her nothing of the experience. Regina's body still thrummed with the thrill of soaring through the air with nothing between her and the far-away ground but Mal's strong body. Regina wanted to share some of that feeling with Mal, to make her feel the way Regina did - like every inch of her skin vibrated with delight.

Mal had sighed when Regina asked, but she allowed her to pull her to lie flat on the bed. Now it was Regina's turn to kiss and stroke Mal; to unlace Mal's shirt to reveal already hardened nipples for her to roll between her fingers and cover with kisses; to reacquaint her hands and her mouth with all the parts of Mal's body that made her shudder and growl. Regina whispered along Mal's skin, words of desire, words of approval, and Mal shivered as much in response to her voice as to her touch.

"I need to feel you," Mal pleaded, tugging at the hem of Regina's shirt. Regina nodded her consent, and Mal magicked all their clothes away, leaving them both naked; their bodies slid smoothly against each other, skin already dampened and slick with sweat. Mal had lifted Regina and rearranged her so that she straddled Mal's bent leg, her thigh nestling against Regina's heated centre. Mal's muscles flexed against Regina, much as they had when she had been flying, but this was so different a sensation, because now she could feel her own wetness coat Mal's skin. It was too much, too distracting, there was too much temptation to forget herself and grind against Mal's strength. She slid forward, until it was Mal's stomach she rested against. Mal moaned her frustration, unable to get enough purchase to press against Regina from this position.

Regina returned her attention to touching Mal, slipping her hand between their bodies until her fingers found Mal's slickness. Mal's body offered her no resistance, hips rocking upwards so that Regina's fingers slid smoothly home. And this _was_ home, the sensation of Mal's body tightening around her, the sound of Mal's keening wail as Regina twisted and thrust, the clasp of Mal's strong arms around her, Mal's mouth seeking hers, all of this was home. And when she sent Mal over the edge, Regina found herself following after, driven to climax by nothing more than Mal's tensing body and cries of pleasure.

 

When they had finally calmed, after Mal had kissed Regina breathless, then worked her way down her body and spread her open so she could use her mouth in ways that made Regina scream her name to the hills, Mal repositioned them so she sat propped against the headboard with Regina in her lap. She treasured these quiet moments as much as she did the heated hours that came before. She kissed Regina's shoulder and brushed the hair back from her face, she caressed Regina's back idly, smoothing her hands along warm skin. She felt Regina smile into her neck. Mal curled a hand under Regina's chin, tilted her face upwards, and kissed her, slow and sweet. There was no heat to this kiss; just a gentle exploration of each other's mouths that went on for long minutes. Regina pulled back first; with a shuddering sigh, she took Mal's face between her hands, gazed into cool blue eyes and whispered, "I do love you. With all my heart."

Mal stiffened, her eyes going wide.

"You don't have to say it back," Regina assured her. Her voice was steady, with no hint of fear. "I just wanted you to know."

"Regina –" Mal actually found herself gulping. She squared off her shoulders and tried again. "I will lay the world at your feet. Ask me for anything, I will do everything in my power to give it to you. I will be your shelter. Your-" She broke off. Regina was smiling, so broadly it verged on laughter.

"Do dragons not use the word 'love'?" she asked, her voice warm and teasing.

Mal growled at the teasing, but her response was serious.

"It is a word. It can mean many things. I want there to be no doubt between us. I want you to be sure, of how I feel."

"It's okay, Mal," Regina said softly. "I know."

Mal moved in to kiss her again, then drew back, frowning. "Why does this always happen?"

"What?"

"There's….people."

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal and Regina make new friends, scary things continue to happen along the border, and Regina makes plans to give Mal a rather unusual gift.

They hurriedly used their magic to re-clothe themselves, and Mal waved the pavilion back to nothingness. She started to ask Regina to stay behind while she went ahead to investigate, but took one look at Regina's stubborn glare and sighed. Instead of instigating an argument she'd lose, she 'ported them both into the forest where she had sensed the interlopers cross the warding spells she had cast around the pavilion.

They materialised facing two women. One was older, her white hair held up in a loose bun, and a crossbow and quiver slung over her shoulder. Her companion was about Regina's age, her dark hair worn in a long braid; she was weaponless except for the dagger stuck in her belt. Both women carried packs and looked travel worn. Unlike the villagers, they were not taken by surprise when two strange women appeared before them out of thin air. In fact, within moments of them materialising, the younger woman had snarled and drawn her dagger, holding it in a defensive position. The older woman had her crossbow armed and levelled at them only seconds after her younger companion had drawn her weapon.

Regina put a gentling hand on Mal's arm; she had already taken a step forward, putting herself between Regina and the strangers, her hand curling to draw up her power.

It was the older woman who spoke first, as she lowered her crossbow.

"Red, put down your knife."

"You know what she is, Granny!" the younger woman snarled.

"Yes. I do. So I also know your little blade won't do you much good."

Mal smiled; it wasn't a friendly smile. "I'd listen to your grandmother."

"You let the girl go first." Red snarled back, gesturing at Regina with the dagger.

Mal growled as the knife moved, but otherwise held her peace. She heard Regina groan behind her.

"How many times will we have to go through this? I don't need rescuing."

"You do know she's a dragon, right?" Red demanded.

"Yes. And I still don't need rescuing!" Regina said angrily.

Red deflated, looking confused. She lowered her weapon.

Mal's posture relaxed slightly. She kept her eyes trained on the older woman though.

"You're a long way from home."

"We're just passing through," Granny said. "Don't intend to cause a fuss."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "There's only two of you?" She noted the darkness that crossed Red's face, and how Granny's face went even stiller and more unreadable.

"Yes."

"I can't permit you to pass through our territory," Mal said shortly. "Not without knowing the truth." She heard Regina's huff of frustration, but the girl held her peace.

"There's not much to tell," Granny said. "We are separated from our pack. We're on our own."

"That alone would be a tale worth hearing," Mal replied. "Even if I hadn't already heard…other stories."

That was when Regina reached her limit. "Mal, what is going on? Why are you so concerned about two women? Why should they not have safe passage through your territory?"

"Regina –" she half-turned towards her, still keeping Granny in her line of sight. "Please. Just a few minutes more, and I will tell you-" She saw the look in Regina's eye and sighed. "Fine. All right. They're werewolves."

Regina's eyes widened in shock, and then brightened in excitement. "Really? They exist too?"

"Yes. Just like fairies. And trolls. And dragons." Mal's tone was dry, but she was smiling fondly when she said it.

Granny and Red exchanged looks of surprise.

"I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Granny said quietly.

"She's still a dragon," Red ground out. "She's a murderer."

Mal turned back to them, snarling. "You had better be very sure of your accusations, child."

"Everyone knows dragons hunt werewolves!" Red shouted. "Your kind has been feeding on mine since the first wolf ran!"

Mal laughed cruelly. "Ask your grandmother for the truth. How many dragons have fed on werewolves?"

Granny looked uncomfortable. "Not as many as they say."

"Indeed. I know I've never eaten one." She raked a dismissive glance over Red. "Too stringy and bitter for my taste."

Red growled and made as though to strike out at Mal. Granny grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back before she moved more than a few inches.

"My apologies, Maleficent." Granny said formally. "My granddaughter is young. She has listened too closely to some fireside tales, and not enough to the wisdom of common sense."

Regina laid a hand on Mal's arm. "Is that the reason you won't grant them safe passage – because werewolves hate dragons?"

"It's a little more than that," Mal said. “The creatures that attacked Leon, the infection they left in his blood - it tasted like the werewolf’s curse.”

“What creatures?” Granny demanded.

“I haven’t seen them, but I’ve heard them described.”

“Creatures with claws and teeth, covered with fur, but walking on two legs,” Regina said, remembering what Leon and his family had reported.

Red bit back a gasp of shock, and Granny’s face looked even grimmer. “They bit someone? Someone was infected?”

Mal frowned, this was not the reaction she would have expected from anyone responsible for the attack; the women looked and acted more horrified than guilty.

Regina answered again, “Yes, he burned with fever and pain. But Mal cured him.”

“Not a werewolf’s curse then,” Granny said flatly. “There is no cure for the curse of the wolf.”

“I know,” Mal responded, “But it seemed very similar to me. And now we find you - two packless wolves, wandering through our territory.”

“We have not attacked anyone!” Red cried, her eyes flashing in anger.

“Your granddaughter’s temper often get the better of her?” Mal asked evenly.

“Yes. But she is not lying. We are only passing through. Two packless wolves have too much to worry about to attack humans.”

Mal’s eyes narrowed as she contemplated the two women.

“How did you come to be separated from your pack?”

Granny had been scrutinizing Mal and Regina just as closely. She nodded and said, “Share a meal with us, and I'll tell you…well, I suppose I'll tell you the whole story."

Red stared at her grandmother as though she'd sprouted a second head. "You want to break bread with a _dragon?"_

"These are not the old days, Red."

They sat around a hurriedly assembled fire; Red had started and snarled when Regina used a fireball to light it, but her grandmother gave her a warning glare, and she made no comment. Mal called up some bread and cheese from the lair's kitchens and Granny took some dried fruit from her pack. If they had known then how this meal would be remembered, they may have made more of an effort with the menu.

 

_King Stefan had long been known as an ambitious man. But not an over-reaching one. When he set his sights on a new realm, there was always a reason for it – weak rulers, poorly managed lands, porous borders, unhappy subjects looking for a charismatic leader. When he'd married Briar Rose, his goals appeared to change. At first he'd seemed to be content with his new wife, and the lands their marriage added to his realm. But as the winter lengthened, Stefan's armies had started pouring out towards a new realm. They arrived unexpectedly, and camped along the border. Suddenly the land was filled with creatures of dark magic. They harried border patrols, causing havoc and striking fear into the unprotected populace. Hundreds of people fled their homes, hundreds more who did not run died horribly. Survivors spread the stories of the horror in their wake as they fled._

_Stefan's armies sent word to the ruler of the realm, offering their help. With his men scattered thinly, his people in terror, King George had accepted Stefan's assistance. The battles they waged were long and bloody. More of King George's men fell. Strangely, Stefan's forces took very few casualties; his army prevailed, and King George’s people celebrated him as a hero. When George was slain in battle, his people welcomed Stefan when he took the crown. Under their new king, Stefan’s forces drove the dark creatures back, into the territory of an ancient werewolf pack._

_Stefan sent emissaries to the werewolves, offering them a truce if they worked with him to defeat the dark creatures. Some werewolves were fond of humans, and it pained them to see their human cousins hunted and tormented; other werewolves were less eager to lend their strength to a human army. There was dissent amongst the leaders of the pack, and so the pack split. One faction agreed to run with Stefan’s armies; they went off to do battle and never returned._

_It had been an ambush. They had been led directly into a trap._

_Granny and Red were the only survivors of that faction._

_Their kith and kin had been slaughtered; some had been captured and carried away, where or why they did not know._

_Granny was old, but with her age came wisdom, and she'd seen the trap – although too late to warn the others. She'd only managed to save Red._

_They knew they could not return to their pack. They had cast their lot with the humans, which made them outcasts to their own people. They fled in the same direction the humans had – away from Stefan._

_But Granny knew that Stefan was not resting. He wanted more than King George's lands. He was already turning his attention to other realms, and soon, no place would be safe._

 

As Granny had told her tale, Red had moved further and further away from the fire. By the time the story was done, she was several metres away, her back turned to hide her tear-streaked face. Granny looked after her sadly.

“The girl’s taken it hard.”

Regina stood and made to go to Red, but Granny held up a hand to stop her.

“Leave her be. She doesn’t want comfort. And she certainly won’t have it from you.”

Mal growled, and Granny glanced at the fire.

“You know I’m not being disrespectful, dragon.”

“Stay, Regina,” Mal said softly. “Wolves don’t trust magic users.”

“Oh.” She sat back down, leaning gently into Mal’s side. “The creatures that attacked Leon - could they be the same creatures that invaded George’s realm?” she asked.

Mal frowned, “It is possible. But I still think-” She broke off, picked up a stick and began scratching in the dirt.

"This is George's territory," she sketched out a shape. "This is Briar Rose's realm. Here," she glanced at Regina, "the Nameless Forest, Prince Henry's lands, King Leopold, King Midas, King John." As she drew her rough map, it became obvious that all the lands she'd named curved around the same territory.

"That's us, isn't it?" Regina said quietly.

Mal nodded, grimly. "I think he's positioning himself. Fencing us in."

"Why would Stefan want your lands so much?" Granny asked, confused.

"Not my lands," Mal said.

Granny frowned. "He wants you.”

Mal nodded. “He wants a dragon's heart."

Granny eyes widened in horror. “He cannot be allowed to have that!”

Mal sighed. "I fear he won't rest till he has me. He won't care who he hurts or what he destroys until he does." She took Regina's hand. "I must strengthen my protection of our borders."

"You can't do that on your own!" Regina exclaimed, "Not against an entire army. Not even you would be strong enough!"

Mal glanced at Granny. "Will your pack listen to reason? Will they help?"

Granny shrugged. "I can't be sure. Our current matriarch – she's a bit hard headed." She sighed. “She gets that from me.”

"Your daughter?” asked Regina.

Granny nodded. “Red’s mother.”

“We have to try," Mal responded grimly. “We have a common enemy now.”

Granny looked over at Red again. “I don’t think she’s ready to face her mother.”

“And you?”

The old wolf took a deep breath and let it out in a wry laugh. “I’ll go with you, dragon. See if we can talk some sense into my daughter. And if not, maybe offering her my throat will appease her.”

“What about Red?” Regina asked. “She can’t stay out here on her own.”

“No. We’ll take her back to Pilton’s. Ralf and his men can keep an eye on her. And so can you.”

“What? Mal - no!”

“Regina, we don’t know how many more people may have been infected, like Leon. They may already have more victims at the Upper Reaches now.” Mal had started thinking about her strategy as soon as it had become obvious to her that she would have to negotiate with the werewolves. “You and I are the only ones who can treat the infection.”

Regina glared at Mal, her jaw working furiously as she tried come up with a counter argument.

“We can’t both be away,” Mal said gently. “Please, will you stay?”

Regina groaned, but she had to agree.

It took much longer to convince Red to allow Mal to ‘port her and her grandmother to the Upper Reaches. She only agreed after Granny had taken her aside and had a heated conversation, punctuated with forceful gestures from both sides. Finally, Red had hung her head, shoulders slumped in defeat, and walked back over to where Mal stood waiting impatiently. Regina gave the young wolf a sympathetic smile, and got a snarl in response.

 

They arrived into controlled chaos at the healers’ houses. Berta cried out in relief when she saw Regina materialise. Five more people had come across the border, all badly injured, and two of them victims of the same infection that had plagued Leon. Mal helped Regina treat the woman, and then watched as she treated the man on her own.

Granny and Red stood in a corner, under the watchful eye of two of Ralf’s most trusted guards. Granny had let them take her crossbow from her. The wolves watched as Regina and Mal worked, both of them sniffing the air. Granny looked troubled.

When both patients were resting, the wolves followed Mal and Regina to where the temporary shelters for the guards and healers had been cast. Red would have a shelter to herself, but Ralf’s guards would be all around her.

“She’ll behave,” Granny said grimly, as much to Red herself as to Mal.

Mal nodded. “And if she doesn’t, Ralf has his orders.”

“So, we’ll be setting off then?” Granny asked, choosing to not respond to the threat in Mal’s voice.

Mal looked towards the setting sun, then down at Regina.

“We can wait until morning.”

 

They left the wolves to their evening meal and a night’s rest, and ‘ported across the lake, back to their cabin. Treating the strange infection had drained Regina and her hands were shaking with tiredness by the time they were finally alone. Mal watched her with worried eyes; she busied herself setting up a meal and making Regina eat. She filled their tub with hot water, scented with lavender, stripped their clothes from them and lifted Regina into the tub, cradling her in her lap.

Regina nuzzled her face into Mal's neck, her fingers stroked Mal's skin, running up and down her arms and tracing along her scars. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax, soothed by the heat and Mal's closeness. 

"Must you go?" she whispered. She felt Mal shiver as her lips moved against warm skin.

"Yes, Regina." Her voice had gone rough. "We will need the werewolves. We will need their power."

"Will you be safe?"

She could hear the smile in Mal's voice when she replied, "I'm a dragon, remember? I'm the one people need protecting from."

Regina did not let herself be appeased. "No, Mal. You're going off into who knows where, to meet up with creatures who already hate you, and you are going alone. I should be with you. I should be keeping you safe. That's my responsibility."

She felt Mal brush curled fingers along her jaw, then tilt her face up to be kissed. She kept her eyes closed as Mal's mouth moved against her, not trusting herself to not cry if she looked at Mal. She tried to stop her fear from colouring her kisses, but she knew she had failed when Mal growled. It was not one of her irritated growls, nor was it a growl of arousal. This was the sound Mal made when she was afraid she had disappointed Regina. Nothing would keep the tears from falling now.

"Regina." Her voice was harsh with distress.

"I'm sorry. I know, I know you have to go. I just wish you'd let me go with you."

"I can't. These werewolves, they probably hate humans now even more than they do dragons. And you are a magic user. They will not react well to the two of us. And I need them to listen."

Regina sniffled a little and brushed the tears from her eyes. She hated crying in front of Mal. She always looked so upset when Regina cried. And Regina did not want Mal to be upset. Especially not on the night before she headed out on her own, to face potential enemies and try to win them over to be allies. So she smiled at Mal instead, putting as much of her love and trust behind it as she could. She saw Mal's eyes widen, her pupils starting to turn yellow around the edges. That was always a good sign. She put her arms around Mal's neck and drew her closer so she could kiss her thoroughly. By the time she pulled back for air, Mal's eyes were glowing yellow, and the growl she gave was definitely one of arousal. Regina 'ported them to the bed, uncaring of their wet skin. If Mal was going into the wilds alone, to confront yet more hatred and death, then Regina wanted to be sure she knew that she had a home to come back to, where she was loved beyond measure.

 

Mal and Granny ‘ported away soon after dawn.

Regina did not have time to miss Mal, there was too much to do in the camp. After some grumbling that she was being watched like a criminal, Regina allowed Red to accompany her. She already had three guards following her everywhere, so Red would still be watched, and at least she could be kept busy. And Regina did keep her busy.

They started in the healing houses, going wherever Berta thought Regina would be most needed. The couple from the previous night were improving, still weak and in pain, but their lives were no longer at risk. Leon was much stronger, able to sit outside the healing house and talk with his brother and mother. The three of them welcomed Regina warmly, but she could only pause with them for a few minutes. Alys, and the newly planted fields, needed her attention too.

Alys hugged Regina when she saw her, and clasped a reluctant Red by the hand. She put them all to work, including Gil, who laid his sword aside so he could kneel in the dirt besides Regina and Red as they pulled hundreds of green fuzzy stems from between rows of fast-sprouting beans, turnips, and carrots.

“Whatever her honour did to these seeds, they grow fast,” Alys said with a hint of frustration, “But so does everything else! I’ve never seen the weeds flourish so!”

“It’s the growing magic,” Regina said. “Next time, we’ll know to be more focused.” Her hands were stained green, and her knees were dirty, but Alys was singing as they worked, and she could hear children playing by the lakeshore, and there was a sense of peace and purpose in the newly-forming village that filled her with hope. They would face whatever Stefan threw their way, and together they would be able to beat him back.

When a new shift of helpers arrived, when the sun was high overhead, they stopped for lunch. They found shade under a stand of trees overlooking an open space where some guardsmen were practicing their archery. They may have been away from the lair, but Ralf was making sure his men and women kept up with their training.

Their meal was a simple one, more of the coarse rye bread, some sharp goats cheese and a thin ale. They ate in silence, watching the arrows fly, some more accurately than others. Gil was still close by, but he had moved far enough to allow them to speak in relative privacy. Red had shown no inclination for speaking until now; she had done whatever Regina had asked of her, but her face had remained sullen and she had offered nothing more than monosyllabic responses when anyone had spoken to her. But now, as they rested and ate together, she said “Are all these people part of your pack?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by pack,” Regina responded. “Is that like a family?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Is your pack related by blood - mother and father, sons and daughters?”

“Oh. No. A pack is...more than that. Yes, my mother and grandmother are part of my pack. But a pack goes beyond bloodlines. It is your home...your history.”

The young wolf was obviously struggling to help Regina make sense of a concept that was as natural to her as breathing, and as inexplicable.

“We are all connected. We run together.” She made the last statement in a tone of voice that said, ‘that should explain everything’.

Regina frowned in concentration. “I don’t think this is a pack - not in the way you seem to mean it.”

“But it seems you all run together,” Red said, confused. “Are you sure you aren’t a pack?”

“Some of these people had never met each other before they found their way here. I knew none of them.”

Red shook her head. “I don’t understand humans.”

Regina grinned. “I don’t understand werewolves.”

Red stared at her, ready to be affronted, but saw the gleam of humour in Regina’s eyes and laughed instead.

“What would you like to know?”

“Really?” Regina said eagerly, “You’ll answer my questions?”

Red looked a little wary, but nodded. “As long as they are reasonable questions.”

“Thank you! Where did werewolves come from? Are you like dragons - created by the Fates? Why do you-”

“Hold on,” Red said laughingly, holding a hand up to make Regina pause. “Are all humans so curious?”

“I don’t think so,” Regina said sheepishly. “Mal says I have an inquisitive mind.”

“Okay, let’s start with the story of where we came from. No, we are nothing like dragons. Werewolves were cursed into being.”

“Oh. Who by?”

Red sighed. “It’s a long story. A few centuries ago, a man was traveling through some very rough and inhospitable country. It was winter and the roads were icy. His horse threw him and he was badly injured. He managed to find a village and asked them for help. Instead of giving it to him, they robbed him - taking his gold and what little food he carried.”

“What does this have to do with-”

“What the villagers did not realise,” Red continued, frowning at Regina’s interruption. “Was that they were dealing with a magician. They would often waylay travellers - taking what they could from them. It was a harsh country, and they were only trying to survive. But now they had an enraged magician on their hands. So he cursed them. He cursed the entire village. And all their descendents. For all time.”

“Cursed-”

“He said to them, ‘Even wolves would not have been so heartless. Well then, be wolves.’ And then he cast a curse over the entire village.”

“Oh.”

“Cursed us to become wolves.”

“When the moon is full.” Regina knew this much about werewolves.

“Not just when the moon is full.” Red corrected. “He used the moon’s power to cast the curse, and so yes, when the moon is at her brightest, we have no choice but to transform. But over the years, the curse changed our blood. We have some control of it now, and we can transform whenever we like.”

“So you could...right now?”

“If I wanted.”

“Oh. Your grandmother seemed to think the curse was like an infection in the blood.”

Red nodded carefully. “It is. There are two ways to become a wolf. You can be born to a pack - like me. Or you can be turned by the bite of a wolf - like Granny.”

“Turned?”

“From human.”

“Your grandmother is human?!”

“She was. Then she met my grandfather, and decided she loved him enough to be turned.”

“Oh.”

“None of this is a huge secret,” Red said. “Your dragon would be able to tell you, if you’d asked her.”

“I didn’t even know werewolves were real until I met you!” Regina protested. “I am still learning about dragons!”

Red grinned, showing all her teeth. “That’s a story I’m dying to hear. How did you end up with a dragon?”

“I found her, badly injured, and I rescued her.”

“Oh. You didn’t rob her, like my ancestors would have?”

“No!”

Red laughed. “You obviously made the better choice.”

“It is a very harsh punishment,” Regina said softly. “To curse children who had not even been born at the time he was robbed.”

Red snarled. “Magic users can’t be-” She broke off, and looked at Regina, her brow furrowed. “I suppose not all of you are the same,” she said grudgingly.

Regina smiled in acknowledgment of the concession Red had just made. But her curiosity was still unsated.

“Did he ever regret it?”

“I don’t think he was given much chance. I told you he used the power of the full moon to cast the curse. Think about it. A village of newly transformed werewolves. An injured man bleeding on the ground. He didn’t last two minutes.”

“Ah. Of course. He may have miscalculated a little there.”

Red snorted with grim humour. “He had the last laugh after all. Only the caster of the curse could break it. By eating the magician, my ancestors guaranteed that none of their descendents would ever be free of the curse.”

“That’s why your grandmother thinks that the creatures attacking the refugees cannot be werewolves.”

Red nodded. “Even a dragon’s magic isn’t powerful enough to break the curse of the wolf.”

Regina sighed and returned to watching the archers practice. Some of them were very good, although they would benefit from adjusting their stance and draw a bit. She glanced back at Red.

“What’s it like? To transform?”

She had tried asking Mal that once, but had not been able to get an answer that made sense. Mal had talked of a stretching itch, a pleasure that bordered pain; then she had said the only thing that felt better was when Regina was between her legs, and their conversation had taken a very different turn.

“It hurts.” Red said flatly.

“Oh.”

“It doesn’t hurt the dragon?”

Regina shook her head. For some reason there were tears in her eyes.

“You get used to it,” Red said hurriedly. The tears surprised her even more than they did Regina, and her voice was suddenly gentle. “And when you are the wolf, it is worth it. The power of the wolf - you grow to love it. I wouldn’t give it up now.”

“oh.” Her voice was small.

“Would you like to see?”

“What- no Red, you said it hurts!”

Red shrugged. “Only for a little while.”

Regina glanced at Gil; she knew her other guards were close by too. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Red.”

“I promise, I won’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m worried they may hurt you,” Regina said ruefully. “If they see you as a threat.”

“So tell them I’m not.”

Regina stared at her for a few moments. Red just grinned encouragingly. “Don’t you want to see my wolf?”

Regina shook her head, bemused. She turned to Gil and called out, “Red is going to transform. I am fine. Do not attack her!”

“Ma’am-” Gil started, worried.

“I assure you, if she attacks me, I can burn her to a crisp before she does too much damage.”

Red snorted besides her. “That’s encouraging.”

“Don’t attack me, and we’ll both be fine.”

“Yes ma’am,” Red drawled sardonically. “Are you ready?”

Gil had moved closer to Regina; he had drawn his sword. Regina heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see her other guard step out from behind the trees. She held a bow, arrow already notched, waiting only to be drawn and let fly if Red presented a danger. She didn’t know where her third guard was, but she was sure he was close.

She turned back to Red. “Ready.”

Red stepped away from Regina, out from under the shade and into the bright sunlight. She was making herself an easy target. She kept her gaze fixed on Regina, took a deep breath, and changed.

It took longer than Mal’s transformation did.

Regina could see Red’s face pull and morph, heard creaking and tearing as her bones rippled and muscles stretched. Red didn’t howl, but she did groan, a drawn out, hair-raising sound. Regina did not allow herself to look away. Red was offering her a gift of knowledge, and she was not going to let her suffer in vain. So she was paying attention when the air around Red seemed to bulge, and where there had once been a straining, twisted, young woman, suddenly stood a wolf.

She had retained her green eyes, but that was where the similarities between the human and wolf ended. This was the biggest wolf Regina had ever seen; the top of her head would easily be level with Regina’s shoulder. Her fur was dark gray, thick but short. Her lips curled back to reveal yellowed fangs. Regina could hear a rumbling growl; the sound left her stomach clenching and she had to force herself to not call up a fireball in response to the nameless dread that sent icy tendrils shivering down her back.

“Red?” she said hesitantly.

The wolf lowered her head. When she looked up again she was no longer snarling, but she watched Regina warily.

“May I come closer?”

The wolf tilted her head, then straightened and seemed to nod.

Regina stepped forward. She heard her guards move with her, but she kept her eyes fixed on Red. She stopped by Red’s shoulder, with barely a foot between them.

“Can you understand me?”

Again that almost-nod.

“May I touch you?”

Nod

Regina reached out a tentative hand and let her fingers brush against Red’s shoulder. She was warm, and her fur surprisingly soft.

“Thank you,” Regina said. “You are...magnificent.”

Red turned her head even more towards Regina, and suddenly her tongue was lolling out of her mouth and she was panting happily.

Regina laughed; this behaviour was so doglike that she was now fighting an impulse to scratch Red behind her ears.

“Perhaps you should change back?”

Red nodded, and her body started to stretch and morph again. The air seemed to cave inwards right before her human form reappeared. She was breathing heavily, as though she’d just gone on a fast run, but other than that seemed no worse for the wear.

“Thank you,” Regina said again. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Red smiled shyly. “You’re welcome. Thank you for not setting me on fire at the start. It takes a few moments, for me to remember who and what I am.”

Regina nodded. “About that. How do the clothes work?”

“Hmm?”

“When you transform - where do your clothes go? Mal says she just magics them away and back again when she’s returning to human form. But wolves don’t do magic, so-”

Red laughed. “Your dragon is right, you do have an inquisitive mind. I don’t know the answer to that one, Regina. It’s built into the curse. The closest I’ve heard it explained is that we don’t actually transform into a wolf. We are possessed by the wolf, consumed by it. So somewhere inside, I’m still there, in this dress and in these shoes. Just surrounded by the wolf.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t seem very-”

“You may have to let this one go, Regina. The only person who would be able to explain it to you was digested hundreds of years ago.”

Regina sighed. “Oh very well.”

It was a strange way to start a friendship, and no one could have predicted that it would happen, or what it would grow into. On that warm spring day, they were both just happy that they had seemed to find a way to trust that the other would not try to hurt them.

 

Regina was meeting with Ralf and Pilton so they could give her a report of everything that had transpired in the camp the day she and Mal had been away. Only two nights had passed since Mal and Regina had come to the Upper Reaches, but things were changing so rapidly that there was a lot for the men to tell her. Red had got bored with hearing about food supplies and the amount of weaving that had to be done. After a few minutes she had wandered outside the tent; she lay in the grass, stretching in the sun more like a cat than a wolf. Gil had gone with her, but he stood loosely at attention in a position where he could watch both the tent and Red.

“The protective spells are holding,” Ralf told Regina. “The newcomers have told us how the monsters that were following them seemed to suddenly get lost in the woods.”

Regina nodded. “Good.”

“The patrols haven’t sighted anything, but we’re stretched thin. I wish we had more guardsmen here.”

“I was watching your guards train,” Regina said. “Some of them are very good.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” Ralf said gruffly, although Regina could tell her words had pleased him. Ralf took great pride in his guards, and even though they wore no uniform and came from disparate backgrounds, he drilled them until they were at least the match of the troops she had known in her father’s guard.

She had been thinking about her father’s huntsmen and rangers, and how he had deployed them to track and hunt game across the breadth of the Nameless Forest.

“What if the wolves say no?” she asked suddenly.

“You’ve heard from her honour?” Pilton asked worriedly.

“No. But it is possible that they will refuse to help us. What happens then?”

“Maleficent will think of something,” Ralf said with conviction. Pilton nodded his agreement.

A small part of Regina was strangely proud of how much faith the men had in Mal, but the larger part was so distressed her voice broke when she said, “She cannot do it by herself!”

“Ma’am-”

“I was hoping we could give her another option.”

Ralf leaned forward, “What do you mean, Ma’am?”

She told him; told him she’d wondered how many other men and women there were in the territory like him and Pilton, people with experience of fighting, and hunting and tracking, people who could be relied on. Told him of her idea, to use these people to train others, to arm them, then place them along the border, like a human guardwall behind the line of Mal’s warding spells.

“You want to give her honour an army,” Ralf said in a thoughtful voice.

“I wasn’t thinking of an army, just a guardwall.”

Ralf looked at Pilton. “Can it be done?”

Pilton frowned. “From those within the territory, yes, possibly. And there’s over three hundred able bodied in this camp right now.”

“I don’t want to force anyone to help,” Regina warned.

Ralf shrugged, “We may not always be able to say no conscripts, Ma’am.”

“Would you fight, if you were forced to?” Regina challenged.

“I have, Ma’am” Pilton replied gently. “I was barely fifteen. Had no choice. Wanted to come home. So I fought.”

Regina’s face darkened as she heard Pilton out. “Very well,” she said, her voice thick. “No conscripts unless we have no choice.”

“Yes Ma’am. If you’re done with me, we’ll get started.”

 

Ralf and Pilton were already deep in conversation as they left the tent. Regina joined Red, sitting cross-legged on the grass to let the sun warm her shoulders. She hadn’t thought as far as an army, but Ralf’s words had set off a spark in her mind. Perhaps it _was_ possible for them to put together a fighting force strong enough that the defence of their territory did not have to rest so heavily on Mal’s shoulders. She wished she could talk with Mal, not just because she missed her, but also because she wanted to know how her negotiations with the werewolves were progressing. She sighed, and Red looked up at her, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking of Mal.”

“She’ll be fine, Regina. The dragon is strong. My mother won’t be able to hurt her.”

“What do you think she’ll do, your mother? Will she help?”

Red shrugged, “My mother can be a stubborn woman. And she is very angry.”

Regina smiled ruefully. “I know what that’s like.”

“I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.” Red sounded like a child, lost and forlorn.

“Do you _want_ her forgiveness?”

“Yes of course! I love my mother!”

“Then surely she won’t blame you forever for making a bad choice-”

“Making a bad choice!” Red repeated with a tortured laugh.

Regina looked at Red carefully, taking in the thinned, downturned line of her mouth and the tears brimming in her eyes.

“Red, why don’t you want to go home?” she asked gently.

Red sat up and buried her face in her hands. Her voice emerged muffled, and Regina had to lean closer to hear. She placed a comforting hand on Red’s shoulder; the young wolf did not shrug it off.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What is?”

“Granny only came with me to keep me safe. Even though she was human once, she wasn’t going to go with Stefan’s men. But I thought it would be exciting. I wanted to fight these strange creatures. I wanted some _fun._ Mother told me I was being silly. That I would regret it. But I wouldn’t listen. So Granny came with me. Said she’d keep an eye on me.”

“Your grandmother doesn’t blame you for what happened, Red.”

Red lowered her hands as she continued talking. Though her voice grew firmer, her eyes darkened and her mouth set in grim lines; now that she had started telling the story, she could not seem to stop, even though it obviously caused her pain.

“Granny’s old. Quinn didn’t think she’d be able to protect me well enough.”

“Who’s Quinn?”

“My mother’s mate.”

“Your father?” Regina asked, confused.

“No. No, my father was a wolf my mother ran with one summer when she was young. Quinn is her mate. Has been for some years now. He said Granny was too old to keep me safe.”

“Your grandmother seems strong enough to me!”

“Granny is an old wolf - old wolves can’t transform anymore - not at will. She’ll still change at full moon - the curse cannot be broken. But she can no longer become the wolf whenever she wants. Quinn was worried she wouldn’t be able to keep up, so he came with us.”

“Oh.” Regina felt with grim certainty she knew how this tale would end, but she let Red keep talking. She kept her hand on Red’s shoulder, feeling the tension quiver through her body.

“When they attacked us, somehow, Granny knew. She got to me before it had really started. Quinn was still a matriarch’s mate. He wouldn’t leave. I heard him shouting at Granny to get me away. But he wouldn’t leave. He charged right at them. I saw him fall. Then Granny dragged me too far into the trees to see.”

“Oh Red, I am so sorry.”

“I killed my mother’s mate,” Red sobbed. “She will never forgive me.”

Regina drew Red closer and held her while she cried. She could think of nothing she could say that would make this any easier for Red to bear.

“We’ll make Stefan pay,” she said at last, when Red’s sobbing had eased.

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with Red sniffling sporadically into Regina’s shoulder.

“I know where Pilton keeps the good ale,” Regina said, when the silence had lost some of its tension and had turned mostly comfortable. “I think we both deserve a drink, don’t you?”

Red laughed. “It’s as though you can read my thoughts.”

 

The following day brought still no news of Mal or Granny, but it also brought ten new refugees, three of whom were victims of the strange infection. Regina cured them, but the effort drained her strength, and she could not help with any more healing for the day. Berta sent her away to rest, so she and Red wandered over to where Ralf had already started working with his new volunteers.

He had them standing in a ragged line, and Pilton was shouting at them about being careful to not poke their neighbour in the eye with their pike.

“They seem eager,” Red said dryly, watching the men and women quake under the haranguing Pilton was giving them.

“He’ll get them marching in a straight line and poking the sacks with their pointy sticks in no time,” Ralf said proudly.

“Let me know if I can help,” Regina said, and was caught completely off-guard when Ralf responded.

“I was meaning to ask you. You said that my archers could use some improvement.”

“Oh. Yes. It was just minor things, Ralf. Some of them need to adjust their stance a little, and watch how they draw. But on the whole-”

“I’d like to put you in charge of the bowmen.”

“What?”

“I need someone to train them.”

“Me?!”

“Yes ma’am. Many of them hunt with the bow, and some are not bad, as you’ve seen. But they need taking in hand.”

And that was how Regina got conscripted into being in charge of the company of archers.

Red still accompanied her on all her rounds, from the healing houses to the kitchens, and when they’d watched a few inept but eager volunteers fail miserably at drawing their bows, she told Regina about Granny’s crossbow. She told her particularly how Granny had taken to the crossbow late in life and was now one of the deadliest shots across the Red Wall.

Regina practiced replicating Granny’s crossbow until she had a match close enough to satisfy Red’s exacting standards. By the end of the day, Regina’s archers were divided up into men and women experienced with the traditional hunting bow, and those who had never shot an arrow before, and so were armed with crossbows instead.

The work kept Regina from dwelling too long on Mal and worrying about what was happening with her. Even so, the evening loomed long before her. Noticing that Regina grew more melancholy as the sun sank lower in the sky, Red made her join the small group who gathered around a fire outside the guards’ temporary shelters.

Ralf, Pilton, and a few other guards would sit there to drink ale and tell tall stories. Regina and Red had heard them the previous night, but they had already drunk two flagons of ale between them, and had fallen asleep before they could even discuss going out to join the conversation.

When they approached the fire tonight, they were welcomed with no fuss; Red had shown herself to be no threat, and no one would dare tell Regina she could not have the run of the camp. Two men moved to make room for them close to the fire, and someone else passed them mugs of spiced ale.

Some of the younger men were telling war stories - trying to outdo each other in tales of how many and how thoroughly they had killed. Ralf and Pilton did not say much; they just listened with tolerant smiles. The ale loosened tongues, and before long, one of the men turned to Red and asked drunkenly “How many men have you killed, wolf?”

“I don’t think-” Regina started, but Red interrupted her.

“A few.”

“Really?” Regina demanded, her voice shocked.

Red nodded. “Humans hunt us. We fight back,” she explained. “It’s them or us. I won’t apologise for it.”

“No, wolf. No apologies necessary,” the man who had asked her the question said. “We don’t! War is war.”

Regina slumped back a little, hoping no one would ask her the same question. She was asking men and women like these if they would stand up and fight; there would likely come a time when they would have to kill someone - if Stefan’s armies ever attacked their territory, then they would not just be facing monstrous creatures, but other humans too. Regina thought of unleashing her arrows into the body of a man or woman - a stranger who had been sent to hurt or destroy that which she held most precious. Would she be able to do it? Or, when it came to the killing point, would she freeze and be unable to follow through? She had asked Ralf and Pilton to help her build a guardwall, an army, to help Mal. But would she herself be of no use to Mal because she could not bring herself to fight?

She looked at the people around her, laughing, voices booming out into the night as they talked of conquests in battle; she felt the scrutiny of the circle tighten around her like a noose. She staggered to her feet and stalked off into the darkness, unable to face the fireside company and the easy talk of death any more. She waved Red away when the wolf would have gone with her, but she did not notice Ralf and Pilton watch her leave. In unspoken agreement, they both stood and followed her.

They caught up to her by the healing houses. Regina was leaning against a wall, bathed in the glow of one of Mal’s fire-glasses. It was peaceful here now; there was no one groaning in agony, or crying out for relief. The silence was a blessing.

“Are you alright ma’am?” Ralf asked gently.

Regina considered deflecting their concern, but then remembered their faces as they’d listened to the others speak. They hadn’t seemed to revel in the tales, as the others had done.

“I don’t know if I will be much use in a fight. I worry I’ll be too afraid to do what I need to.”

“Ah, lass,” Pilton said. He reached out and patted her hand.

“I’ll guarantee you most of those blowhards back there were terrified too.” Ralf added. “You manage.”

Regina looked unconvinced. So they told her of their own first times in battle; they'd been so young, much younger than Regina, barely out of boyhood. They told her how their guts had twisted, how they'd huddled together for comfort and bravery. And when the call had come to attack, how Pilton had wet himself in his fear. How Ralf had run up against his first foe, a lad not much older than himself, whose eyes had blazed with madness. Ralf had fallen, slipping and sliding in the mud of the battlefield. That had saved him. The enemy's wild slashes had gone over his head, and he'd been able to strike blindly upwards with his own short sword and somehow stab his opponent in the thigh. The lad had fallen almost on top of Ralf, and they'd grappled in the mud and blood. Ralf didn't know what happened, but he'd just stabbed and stabbed and stabbed until his opponent stopped moving, and he'd been left staring into those mad eyes fixed open in death.

"Did you run away?" Regina asked. "How could you have continued?"

"That was the worst of it," Ralf told her quietly. "Later, when I had time to think. That was the worst of it. I wasn't frightened anymore. I wasn't even angry. I was mad with it - I wanted to do it again and again. I wanted more blood, more bodies to my name."

Regina stared at him, at this kind-hearted man who always spoke gently to her, who loved his son, who carried the young children of the camp on his shoulders while they laughed. His eyes narrowed, as though he was looking at something in the far distance. She could see the tendons in his neck bulge.

She watched Pilton put a hand on Ralf's arm, saw the change it made in Ralf; he came back to himself and smiled ruefully at Regina.

"It takes some of us that way," Pilton said quietly. "For me, it made me weep. Wail like a child torn from his mother's breast. I did cry for my mother, more than once." He was unashamed as he told Regina how terrified he had been; how he had spent the first minutes of his first battle ducking and hiding behind anything he could, even his fallen compatriots. "It couldn't last. They found me eventually. Three of them, hunting as a pack. They had me with my back to a wall. There was nowhere for me to run. So I fought back."

"You killed three men? By yourself?"

"Oh yes. It was them or me. Fates decided it'd be me who lived. Me who saw the sun rise again." He shrugged. "Others weren't so lucky. I'm not the greatest fighter, ma’am. But I was the luckiest on that day. I learned skill after that, but luck saved me on my first time out."

"And you weren't afraid anymore?"

"Oh, I'm afraid every time ma’am. The trick is to not let it stop you doing what you need to."

"And what you need to do is survive," Ralf said. "Whatever it takes."

"And sometimes, what you need to do is bring your friends through alive with you," Pilton added, his voice warm.

Ralf covered Pilton's hand with his own, a wry smile on his face. "Aye."

 

Regina stayed up half the night, trying to figure out how she would react - whether she'd be the one weeping and soiling herself, or would she be murderous with blood-lust. She could not decide which reaction she wanted to have, or which one made her more afraid.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get a new chapter up before the Thanksgiving break, so we'll have to wait a while to see what Mal is up to. The updates are taking longer than I'd like, but the story is plugging along nicely, in my head at least :p


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